Somewhere New
by Wandering Paladin
Summary: Sequel to No More. Sometimes death is only a new beginning.
1. Chapter 1- New Arrivals

Hello internet!

I was so excited to write this that I ended up writing it seven times, in seven different ways. This is actually number three, which I liked the best out of all of them because it lets me develop it further if I so choose. This is supposed to put a silver lining on my other story, No More, which is just sad and depressing from beginning to end.

To those who haven't read No More, I recommend reading it before this(with caution) so it will make a little more sense. As a warning, that story is very sad, which is the whole reason this story now exists.

A big shout out and massive thank you to iAmCC for prompting me to write this, you're officially one of my new favorite people! It's been almost exactly one month(as of the day I'm publishing this) since I wrote No More, and it's been haunting the back of my mind, so thanks for putting this in my head.

There's an important question at the end, so please check that out if you like the story!

Alright, that's the end of my notes, enjoy this silver lining.

* * *

 **Mike**

My mouth feels like its full of cotton when I wake up, and I have a splitting pain in my head. When I sit up I feel nauseous and dizzy, and I can't focus my vision on anything around me.

It all starts to calm down when someone rests a hand on my shoulder. The room stops spinning, and gradually comes into focus. As it turns out, I'm not in a room at all, I'm sitting on one of those lounge chairs they put by pools, on the deck of some kind of ship.

After a few moments I realize that someone is talking to me. Standing to my right, his hand still on my shoulder, is an older man wearing a white and blue uniform.

"Are you feeling alright, son?" He asks, still steadying me.

I open my mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a dry croak.

"He needs water," A woman, also wearing a uniform, sitting close by says. "It's disorienting enough to wake up here, but if it happens suddenly you need to drink plenty of water."

Where is here? How did I get on a cruise ship?

"I'll go get him a glass," Another older man says, this one wearing a very nice suit, walking slowly toward a small bar where a man in a uniform is passing out drinks.

When the pain in my head starts to throb I start to remember what happened. The blanket fort, my journal, the gun...

I can barely stomach a sip of water when the man brings it back.

"Thanks," I manage to say, the throbbing going down with another sip.

"No problem at all, young man," He responds, though he has sympathy written all over his face. He looks away when he realizes I'm watching.

"Where am I?" I ask, taking another look around. "I'm supposed to be dead."

The man holding my shoulder grimaces at the question, gingerly letting go and sitting down across from me.

"I'm sorry to say, but you are, son," He says, the same sympathetic concern as the other man plastered on his face. "This is the boat to Eternity, that is, to the afterlife. It's the 'ever after' that people back home wish they knew about."

"The afterlife...?" I murmur, thinking back to all the Sundays I spent in church. "Does that mean there's a boat to heaven?"

The man actually chuckles a little at my question.

"No, nothing like that," He tells me. "Where we're going isn't necessarily the heaven they tell you about in church. Think of it more like... like a new kind of society, just for those that have passed on. It's where all people go, no matter what, and you can consider it more like a utopia."

"A utopia?" I question, having a hard time processing this with the remaining pain in my head. I take another few sips of water as he continues.

"A perfect society," The man explains. "Nothing ever goes wrong, at least not so wrong that it can't be fixed. You never have to want for anything ever again, it all comes to you as you need it. People manage to get along because there's no competition, you can spend your time however you want, forever. Everyone gets a little piece to call their own, and it turns into whatever they want."

"How is that all possible?" I ask, still trying to wrap my brain around the possibility. At the woman's prompting I take more sips of water.

"The soul is a mysterious thing," The man tells me with a smile. "Trying to understand it is something they've been working on since the first people came to Eternity, and we're still no closer now than we were then. All we really need to know, though, is that we can all be happy here, if we're willing to try."

"Happy," I murmur, almost laughing at the idea. There's only one way I can ever be happy, and if what the man says is true, every person that's ever lived is going to be in this place. Finding her there will be like shooting a needle out into space, and then trying to find it again with just your eyes.

"Just you wait," He says, standing up and patting me on the shoulder. "Give it a chance and I'm sure you'll love it here. If not, you could always choose to start over in a new life back home."

With that he walks away, leaving me with my water and my thoughts. I spend what feels like hours, but could honestly have just been minutes, trying to figure out what all of this means.

"Attention passengers, we will be arriving at Port Eternity in just a few minutes," A voice announces over some kind of intercom. "Please prepare to disembark. Staff associates can answer any questions you may have."

I look around at the few other people on the deck, mostly older and elderly men and women. A few middle aged people, and a handful of younger people are here as well, but not many. I follow the crowd, leaving my empty glass on a table on the way, soon finding a larger crowd waiting by a set of doors.

After another few minutes, people in white and blue uniforms come and open the doors, revealing a sprawling terminal where dozens, if not hundreds, of people are slowly making their way off of other boats. I follow the crowd as we leave, trying to take in all of our new surroundings.

I'd taken a few flights to Florida before when we had to visit our grandparents, but this is so much bigger than anything I'd seen then. There are dozens of lines forming out of the crowd as people wait to get through what must be some kind of security or check-in.

I end up on one of the lines without really meaning to, but it moves pretty slowly, so I still have time to take in the massive building. When it finally gets to my turn I've counted eight dozen lines, fifteen cruise liners, and a pretty constant stream of people arriving on new boats as the old ones leave.

"Next in line," The lady at the counter says with a smile. I step up nervously, not really knowing what this is supposed to be about. "Name, please."

"Um, Mike," I answer, and then realize she probably needs my full name for whatever this is. "Michael Wheeler."

"Michael Wheeler, it's nice to meet you. We just have a few logistical things to go over before you can move in," She responds, rifling through some folders until she finds what she's looking for. "We have the basics done already, we just need you to confirm a few things."

She takes out a form, and when I scan over it, there are two things that it covers. A cold shiver runs down my spine.

"This is about your cause of death and last words," She tells me, and then hands me a pen. "If they seem correct, please sign."

 _Cause of death- suicide(gunshot)_

 _Last words- "I'm coming El."_

I hold back a few tears as I sign my name beneath each section. It seems infinitely more depressing reading it about myself than just thinking about it. At least in my mind I know why it happened, on paper it's just a couple of words in ink.

"Thank you," She says when I hand the paper back, and then she hands me a tissue. "I know it's emotional, it's okay if you cry."

I take the tissue from her and dry my eyes, and then blow my nose. I manage to recompose myself a little, stuffing the tissue in my pocket until I find a garbage can. The lady smiles again, and then hands me a small packet.

"This is your introduction to Eternity, as well as the key to your allotment," She explains. "There are directions to the allotment inside, as well as a few basic laws you'll need to know. I would read the intro first, it'll tell you everything you need to know to get situated."

"Thanks," I mumble, staring into the packet after opening it.

"Welcome to Eternity," She says, which I take as the cue to leave.

I follow the smaller crowd of people leaving the lines, entering into the terminal and walking through a maze of hallways. I manage to find a garbage can to throw out the tissue, and when I get lost there are people in uniforms that give me directions to the arrivals area for where my allotment will be.

The longer I walk the smaller the crowd gets, until there are only about a dozen people around me. I'm supposed to leave through area number one forty-six, which takes forever to find in the maze of hallways and exits.

When we finally manage to find the door to one forty-six I'm surprised to see that it's just like an airport, where people wait to pick up their relatives. There are a few bunches of people waiting, holding signs with names on them.

And then I see her...

The entire world around me ceases to exist. The only things I know are real are the thumping of my heart in my chest, loud enough that everyone can probably hear, and that across the room, holding a little sign that says 'Mike Wheeler', is El.

When our eyes meet everything goes blurry, tears starting to cloud my vision. My feet start to move on their own. I don't notice dropping the packet they'd given me, and I barely register the fact that I almost crash straight through one of the people who'd walked in with me.

Until we finally touch, our arms wrapping around each other tighter than ever before, she's the only other thing that exists in the universe. It's like finally waking up from the worst nightmare ever.

All the things that I'd missed for three hundred and fifty-three days, like the way her hair, her _curly_ hair, just barely smells like some kind of flower. Or the way she makes even the simplest outfit, denim overalls and a flannel shirt, seem more beautiful than anything the actresses on tv ever wore. All of it jumps out at me at the same time she does, making my head spin as we spin around each other from the force of our hug.

"El," I manage to croak out, my voice choking with emotion, not in the least because I can finally _feel_ her there with me.

"Mike," She murmurs back, her voice like the sweetest song I'd ever heard, even muffled against my sweater.

I don't know how long we stand there, it could have been forever for all I care, but the world finally comes back into existence when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

"You have all eternity to hug her, Mike," A familiar voice tells me. "But if you don't give your grandma one hug today she might get upset."

El and I half separate, our arms still linked together, and I turn toward the voice. Standing right in front of me is my grandmother, the one we used to visit in Florida before she lost her fight with cancer, except not the way I remember.

She's younger, around the same age as my mother, but I can still recognize her. She has the same little crinkle on her nose when she smiles that I remember.

Somewhat reluctantly, having to let go of El, I give her a hug too. As soon as it's done El and I are linked again, our bodies pressed close together.

"Hey, keep that pda under control," Another familiar voice chastises lightly.

Coming up alongside us, and handing me the packet I'd dropped before, are none other than Benny, Barb, and Bob. Benny had been the one to speak, giving El a similar look to what Mrs. Byers always gave Jonathan and Nancy.

"Welcome to Eternity, Mike," Bob greets, extending a hand.

We hadn't known each other well, but that doesn't stop the pang of guilt that spikes through me. I shake his hand uneasily, which he seems to notice.

"You don't have to feel guilty, Mike," He says with a smile. "I made my choices, and I don't regret them."

"We don't do a lot of accusing here in Eternity," Barb tells me with a smile. I'd never really known her very well either, but the fact that she's here means a lot. "We make our peace with what happened, it comes with the territory."

I feel El's grip tighten on my arm, and I immediately turn to her. It's like there's a magnet pulling me toward her, and it takes all I have to resist it for a few more moments while we all talk.

"Oh, go on," My grandmother tells me, rolling her eyes. "We have all eternity to catch up, we don't have to do it right now."

"Show him the ropes, El," Bob adds. "We'll stop by tomorrow."

"Don't over do it, you two," Barb warns with a sly grin, which turns both of our faces a shade of red tomatoes would be jealous of.

"If you need anything, you know where to find us," Benny says, eyeing how close we are with some suspicion.

With that the four of them leave, chatting among themselves on their way out.

El and I are together almost instantly, and it's all I could ever ask for. Standing there in the arrivals area, El finally in my arms, her head buried against my chest as we both try and fail to hold back our tears.

She's here, she's safe, and we're together.

It's perfect.

* * *

I hope that gave my readers some closure from No More, they get their happily ever after together, just not the one they'd hoped for.

Now, as for the important question I mentioned: Should I leave this off as a one-shot or make it a fluff series?

I have a few things I would definitely want to do, so I'm leaning toward a short series of fluff pieces, but I'm curious what all of you think.

Until next time, wander somewhere interesting!


	2. Chapter 2- Together

Aloha and Shalom!

Well, the response in favor of making this a series was pretty overwhelming for the time this has been posted. I was hoping you guys would want to read some more, but I didn't expect so many people to actually say something about it in such a short time.

I'm not exactly sure how many chapters this will be, but I have plans for a few things. Right now it's looking like there will be five chapters after this one. Fluffy things like this are fun for me to write, so I'll probably be able to post them pretty quickly, but I do have other stories that I'm working on, so stay tuned on those too!

Without further ado..

* * *

After we break apart, all too soon, El takes my hand in hers, leading me out of the building. I don't ask where we're going, I don't care, so long as she's there too.

"I'm giving you a tour," She finally says once the building is behind us. "We just need to find Town Hall first."

"Why Town Hall?" I ask, wondering if there are still forms to fill out.

"You need a new key," She answers, still pulling me along.

"But I haven't even been to the... what was it, the allotment? I haven't been there yet," I respond. "How do you know I need to get a new one?"

"Because it's different from mine," She tells me, coming to a stop and pulling out a key, decorated with purple and pink dots of paint. "We can live together, if you want to..."

My heart almost stops at the idea. It had never even crossed my mind during our reunion, I'd been content with knowing that she's even here.

Her cheeks turn pink when she suggests it, which makes her seem even more adorable than normal. It's just not _fair_ that someone can be that adorable.

"Yeah," I murmur back, feeling something wash over me. "Together."

Without any thought as to what I'm doing, I lean down and kiss her. For the first few seconds I'm nervous that she'll push me away or something, but when I can feel her smiling I know she won't.

It's only our second kiss, but it feels perfect. That being said, I'm sure we'll get to have lots more in the future, which brings a blush to my face as well.

She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me down a little closer, and my hands find their way onto her waist. My entire body feels numb and tingly at the same time, and I can feel every touch as if it comes with electricity. Her fingers clasp together at the back of my neck, just barely tickling me with the touch, and her lips just feel so _soft_ against mine.

Neither of us wants to be the one to break away, but after a while we both need to breathe, touching our foreheads together and letting it just wash over us. I never want to move from this spot, ever.

Unfortunately we have to keep moving eventually, or else El might explode from not getting to show me around. She continues to pull me along, both of us probably grinning like idiots.

Once we leave the port area I'm taken aback by just how normal everything seems. It's just like being in a big city, with skyscrapers rising high into the sky, and dozens of cars and busses navigating the streets. The only thing missing is the smell of exhaust, and other typical city smells.

There's so much to take in, but El just keeps going, weaving her way through crowds of people and across streets like an expert. Even with the grip of her hand on mine, even seeing her right in front of me, I still can't believe that we're together again.

Maybe my prayers were answered after all...

We finally stop for a moment outside a magnificently designed building, nowhere near as big as the skyscrapers, but somehow more impressive. It's made of stone, with giant column and statues out front, and on the front of the building there are bunch of circle designs with an infinity sign in the center.

"Come on," El prompts, gently tugging on my arm to get me to move again.

As we walk she lets go of my hand, slipping her arm into mine so we can stand closer together. We climb the stairs, walking through the open doors into a busy atrium. I give El a questioning look, but she just guides me past all the craziness of the entryway.

Near the back of the building we come to a collection of hallways with dozens of doors on either side. I can't even count how many there are at first glance, though they do have numbers on them when I look again. The one El leads us to seems to be all the numbers in the six hundred range.

"Watch this," She says, leading me over to one of the doors in the middle of the hallway, number 614.

I'm curious what kind of room is on the other side, given the space between each door it must be pretty small.

That idea is completely blown away when El opens the door, revealing another hallway just like the one we're standing in. The only difference is that the numbers in that hallway are all below 100.

"Let's go," She tells me gently, getting my feel to start moving with a gentle push.

We step through the door, which gives me a slight tingle as I pass through it, and El shuts it behind us. Everything is much quieter wherever we are now.

"What was that?" I ask, still trying to figure out how this hallway can exist.

"It's a door," She answers with a little smile, and I feel a little silly. "It's how everyone gets around; all the town halls are connected to each other. We were just in district one, which is for new arrivals, now we're in district six-one-four, that's my district."

"How many districts are there?" I question, trying not to freak out about the fact that we just _teleported_ here or something.

"Lots," El informs me vaguely. "Not really sure exactly."

With that she guides me away from the door we came through, leading me out of the mess of hallways, which carry onto multiple floors of this building. I count ten hallways per floor, and I count five floors before we're out of sight, with so many still to go. That's over five thousand doors.

El moves with confidence into the front area of the building, leading me over to a desk where a friendly looking woman is sitting.

"Morning El, who's your friend?" She greets, obviously a familiar face for El.

"This is Mike," El tells her, hugging my arm a little tighter. The woman raises an eyebrow, eyeing me curiously.

"So this is the infamous Mike," She says, looking me up and down. "She hasn't stopped talking about you all year. We almost had to ban her from the reflecting pool because she was coming so often."

I just laugh nervously, not really understanding what she's talking about. El blushes beside me, which is still absolutely adorable.

"I'm guessing you're here to change his key?" The woman asks, opening one of the drawers of the desk. El nods, turning a little more red at the same time.

The woman just smiles and hands me a form. After skimming it quickly, I can tell it's an agreement to permanently change my key to a new allotment, thereby forfeiting the one assigned to me. I fill in my current district from the number on my key, as well as the allotment number, and sign my name.

El fills in the other half with her information, and then we both hand over our keys. The lady puts mine in another drawer and feeds El's into some kind of machine next to her, kind of like a printer.

After a few moments of strange noises, two keys come out of the machine. El reclaims her decorated key and the lady gives me the second one. I know it's just a key, and I have almost no idea what's going on, but the fact that El and I now officially live together makes butterflies start to swirl in my stomach.

"Have a nice day you two," The lady says, and then gives us a wry smile. "But try not to have too much fun already. You have an eternity together now."

By the time we leave the building we have a matching blush again, which the lady finds incredibly funny.

"Where should we go now?" I ask, stopping at the bottom of the steps.

El's eyes meet mine, and she lets out an adorable little sigh.

"I don't know," She admits. "I planned a tour, for a year, it's all I could think about. What things should I show you...?"

"Anything you want to do," I murmur, hugging her close again. "We have forever now, right? We can do whatever we want."

"I want to stay here," She whispers back, pressing closer.

I'm vaguely aware that a few people pass by us on the street as we stand there, but I couldn't care any less about it if I tried.

"Sorry, Mike," El sniffles, pulling back so we can look at each other again. "I wanted to make your first day special."

"It's already special," I tell her, and I can't help the grin that breaks out on my face again. "We're together again, that's kind of hard to beat."

El laughs a little, smiling back at me again.

"Let's go home," She says. "I want to show you home first."

"I'm already home," I respond, pulling her back into the hug.

"Yeah," She murmurs against my sweater. "Already home."

We stay that way for another long while, which is a habit I can definitely get used to. Unfortunately, we're still standing outside of Town Hall, so people keep passing us by, and it starts to get a little awkward when the same people pass us more than once while we're there.

El links our arms together again, resting her head against my shoulder as we walk. She directs us silently, gently pushing or pulling on my arm to change direction, bringing us through a town that reminds me of Hawkins.

When we turn down the street to a cul de sac I have some suspicion what I might find, and when El stops outside a house my thoughts are confirmed.

"It looks just like my house," I observe, noticing every detail from the bushes outside to the part of the garage where the shingles were loose.

"It was home," El murmurs, bringing me back to the night when we first brought her back to my house.

She'd seemed so small and fragile out in those woods, wearing an old yellow shirt that was way too big for her, soaked to the bones by rain. Looking at her now, I would never be able to tell that it had been her. She's gotten taller, her hair is longer and curly, and even her face has changed since then. No longer does she have the constant state of confusion and panic from the world around her, now she has confidence and happiness.

She's still just as beautiful, though, and that will never change.

"Come on, let's go inside," She says, tugging on my arm. "It's a little different on the inside."

My curiosity is piqued, following at her side as she moves to the door. She fits her key into the door and unlocks it, letting the door swing open.

The first thing I notice is that there's an extra room that we walk into. It's very plain, with wood panelled walls and a lamp overhead. There's a door on the right that looks just like my front door did, and a different one on the left that looks more like the door to a cabin.

"This is... weird," I comment, and then notice how El's shoulders fall a little. "But I love it. It'll be perfect."

"Are you sure?" She asks nervously.

I lean down a little to kiss the top of her head. So long as she's with me, a cardboard box would be perfect.

"I'm sure," I assure her. "Now, which door do we pick first?"

She smiles at me again, leading me over the the familiar door after closing the other one behind us. When we step through it, I'm back in the house I lived my entire life in.

The house I also died in...

I shake off the shudder that runs down my spine at the memory. None of that matters anymore, not now.

"Come on, I'll show you our room," She says, pulling me along again, and thankfully snapping me out of my thoughts.

I can't help but focus on how she says 'our' room, and I'm sure my face is red again by how warm it feels.

El almost runs up the stairs in excitement, so I have to hurry to keep pace with her. When we reach the landing, I notice something important, none of the rooms have doors on them.

She brings me into my old room, which still looks exactly the same as it did when I first showed it to her years ago. Even the toys on the shelves are the same. The only difference is that there are drawings hung on the walls, each one depicting El and someone else doing things.

A few of them are of Hopper, more of them are of her time with party, but over half of them are of the two of us. She'd drawn us doing so many of the things I'd always wanted to do with her, things we can do now that we're together.

"Do you like it?" She asks, again with the same adorable nervousness. "I kept it just how I remembered it."

"It's amazing," I respond, looking between her and the drawings. "I think I like the new decorations the best."

She blushes at the compliment, and I can't resist leaning down to kiss her again, just because I can.

There's nobody else around to see us, to give us strange looks, to tell us to stop, to interrupt us at all. We're alone, together.

That's the most perfect part of all.

* * *

This pretty much wraps up their reunion arc that I was planning, so now I'm going to move more into them getting to spend time together and adding a little world development.

Aloha and Shalom to everyone again(since they can mean hello and goodbye)!


	3. Chapter 3- Learning

Hello!

Welcome back everyone, and sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up. I've had a million problems get in my way, so I won't detail those out for you. With any luck, future updates will come much faster than this one.

So, after all too long a wait, here it is...

* * *

When I wake up the next morning I'm acutely aware of something pressing up against me. It takes me a second to remember where I am, slowly opening my eyes with a knot in my stomach.

A pair of big brown eyes stare back at me, dissolving the knot almost instantly.

"Morning," El murmurs, snuggling a little closer to me under the covers.

"Morning," I respond, unable to stop the smile that plays across my lips. "Were you watching me sleep?"

El's cheeks turn an adorable pink as she nods. I lace my fingers through hers under the blankets and lean forward, kissing her forehead and turning the pink to red.

"I can't think of anything I'd rather wake up to," I whisper to her.

We stay there for a while, not wanting to leave the cozy covers behind, though eventually we both need to use the bathroom. She goes first, and I stay where I am to give her some privacy.

We'll have to talk about the whole 'no doors' thing she has going on. I'm fine with it for everywhere but the bathroom, which means I might have to explain the whole 'need for privacy' thing that goes with it.

It's more than a little awkward using the bathroom without a door after El returns, my eyes constantly flicking to the doorway, but El remains in the bedroom.

In _our_ bedroom.

I can't help the smile coming back at the thought, though if we are going to share the bed, we'll have to get something bigger than my old bed. While we can both fit on the mattress, that doesn't leave a lot of room on either side, which means if one of us turns over in the middle of the night we'll probably fall out.

El is sitting on the bed when I get back, patiently waiting for me to come back. She stands when I walk in, and we head down to the kitchen. It's still a little unsettling to see everything be the same, but it's even weirder to see all the boxes of eggos in the freezer when El opens the door.

"That's a lot of eggos," I comment quietly.

El just giggles a little, taking a box out and closing the freezer.

"Do you want anything else?" She asks with some kind of grin.

I feel like there's some kind of secret here, but for the life of me I can't figure it out. At least not on an empty stomach.

"I don't know, sausages or bacon maybe?" I answer, and she gestures to the fridge again, as if I'd missed them among all the eggos.

When I hesitantly open the door again my jaw drops open.

Rather than the onslaught of eggo boxes I'd expected, sitting in front of me are several dozen boxes of frozen sausages. And when I check the fridge I find even more packs of bacon.

I turn to El, whose giggles turn into full blown laughter, and then turn back to the refrigerator. I tentatively take a box of sausages and close the door.

"It fills up with what you're trying to find," El tells me, fighting down some of her laughter. "All the stuff here does that."

She demonstrates by taking the box from me, dumping the sausages out on a plate, and putting it in the microwave. Rather than press any buttons when she closes the door, she waits a few seconds, and then opens it again. The sausages come out perfectly cooked and smelling amazing.

El presses the eggos down in the toaster, which immediately pops back up with perfectly browned waffles. She takes a bottle of syrup out of a cupboard, surrounded by another dozen that look exactly the same.

We sit in the living room instead of at the table, and El uses her powers to work the television. There are so many more channels than I remember, it's like every show just gets its own station. El finally settles on some kind of soap opera, which I give her a slightly confused glance about, but she doesn't say anything.

When we're both done eating I take the plates away, a cheesy idea forming in my mind from the soap opera. I vaguely remember seeing something like what I'm thinking of on a soap opera my mother and grandmother used to watch.

"So, El," I start, walking back into the living room, trying not to laugh before I get out my line. "Do you believe in love at first sight? Or should I walk by again?"

El stares at me open mouthed for several seconds, and it takes all I have to keep up the stupid smile I put on my face. Then she breaks, her hands flying to her mouth as she starts laughing, which makes me start laughing.

I flop down on the couch beside her as she tries and fails to stop laughing, so I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her up against me.

It takes almost five whole minutes for her to stop laughing.

"That was so cheesy," She says, breaking out into fresh giggles. "Worse than tv."

"Come on, it couldn't have been _that_ bad," I complain. "You know you loved it."

El just smiles at me through her giggling, and then plants a kiss on my cheek.

"And I love you," I tell her, leaning closer to plant a kiss of my own on her lips.

It's like some kind of weight on my shoulders has finally been lifted once those words leave my mouth. I feel completely weightless, as if I'm going to float away if my lips weren't locked against El's.

The familiar tingle runs through my body, starting from where my lips touch hers, until my entire body feels warm from head to toe. I'm sure El can feel the heat radiating off my face, but when I feel her lips turning up in an uncontrollable smile it doesn't matter.

"I love you too," She whispers when we separate, sending a burst of lightning through my nerves.

She shifts closer to me, and I wrap my arms around her as we lean back on the couch. Her head rests on my chest, and I could honestly stay right there forever.

XxX

We wake up a few hours later, the tv still playing soap operas in the background. El smiles up at me, and I'm sure I grin back at her.

"There goes the morning, I guess," I comment, looking at the clock on the wall behind the television.

"I don't mind," She says, trying to snuggle closer.

"Do you want to do anything with our afternoon?" I ask, the endless possibilities stretching out in my mind.

"Whatever you want to do," El answers with another happy smile.

"Well, that narrows it down to absolutely everything," I tell her, giving her another kiss on the forehead. "Do you want to go see a movie? Or go to the beach? Or take a walk through the park?"

I can't help myself from listing more and more things, it's too hard to pick just one. I want to do all of them with her, and if her drawings are any indication, she wants to do them too.

"The beach," She says, cutting off my rambling list. "Let's go to the beach."

"Awesome, I bet the water's always nice and warm here," I respond, my mind narrowing to the beach. "We can go swimming, build sandcastles, look for seashells, go snorkeling-"

"Mike," El interrupts, absorbing all of my attention with a single word. "I don't know how to swim."

The thought hadn't even crossed my mind before. Why would El know how to swim? She was raised in a lab by the bad men, they wouldn't have taught her how to swim, and Hopper never would have let her leave to go swimming.

"I can teach you," I offer, a blush rising in my face again at the thought of getting to be that close with her in public. "If you want, that is."

"I'd like that," She assures me, leaning up to kiss my cheek again.

If I wasn't noticeably blushing before, I definitely am now. While I'm still lingering on the brief touch of her lips, El gets up, holding her arms out to help me up too.

I let her pull as I stand up, and she leads me up to our room again. I notice that the closet still has a door on it, which I must have missed earlier, but El instead goes over to the dresser, pulling open the top drawer.

The drawer seems to work just like the fridge, revealing a wide variety of bathing suit choices for her. Despite all the options, she seems to know which one she wants, right on top of the pile, and she leaves the room with it, giving me a quick glance over her shoulder.

I pull open the same drawer once she's gone, finding just as many options for me to wear. I ultimately decide on a gray bathing suit with dark blue stripes across them. With a nervous burst of speed I change in our room, pulling out a shirt to wear as well before El comes back.

I try not to stare when she walks in, but she just looks so _good_. It's a two piece bathing suit, with high waisted shorts on the bottom and a top that Nancy had told me the name of once, but I just can't seem to remember. Part of her stomach is showing, as well as her shoulders, arms, and most of her legs. It's the most revealing thing I've ever seen her wear.

My face burns with embarrassment when she catches me staring, and I quickly look away. I hope and pray that El doesn't notice the little _issue_ that seeing her in her bathing suit has given me. The drawer opens and closes again, and then El takes my hand, so I have to turn back to her, my face still on fire.

She's holding some extra clothes to wear over her bathing suit, and she holds some out to me as well. I make a point not to look as she pulls the blue and white sundress on, busying myself with putting on the shorts she'd given me.

My breath hitches again when I see her in the dress. It's like she took the word beautiful and decided to make it too shabby a word for her.

"Let's go," She says, taking my hand again.

We leave the house, retracing our steps toward town hall. The same lady as yesterday is at the desk again, a few similar ones scattered around the atrium. El says a few hellos as we make our way to the back again.

This time we go up two floors, to number 2216, and I find myself just as amazed by how the doors function as the first time. We end up in the hallway for the six hundreds, and El continues to pull me along. It's even more amazing to me that El seems to know _exactly_ where to go, for everything.

When we get outside another thought occurs to me, that being if every district has residents, or if some are purely for visiting. By the looks of the district in front of us, it's the latter answer, judging from the lack of houses of any kind. Stretching out in front of us is a white sandy beach, which continues on into the most beautiful body of water I've ever seen.

"Mike?" El questions, and I realize that I'd stopped to stare.

"Sorry, still getting used to the whole 'everything is amazing' thing," I tell her sheepishly. She just smiles at me and puts her arm through mine again.

Rather than find a spot on the sand, belatedly realizing that we hadn't thought to bring towels, El starts off down one side of the beach and I keep step with her, revelling in getting to feel her arm against mine. The fact that all of _this_ is real, that it hasn't just been some kind of painful dream that I'm going to wake up from and be miserable all over again. I can't believe it.

And if this is just some kind of dream, I hope I never have to wake up from it. I can't help but steal glances at her to make sure she hasn't disappeared, even though I can still feel her arm through mine.

I almost stumble when she stops, and I realize that we've been walking for longer than I'd thought. The beach just keeps going, but now the people are few and far between. On one side the beach has a small patch of palm trees for a little bit of shade, and on the other it has some rocks extending out into the water, full of hand and foot holds on the sides, but nice and smooth on top. It's the perfect spot to spend a day at the beach.

A little bit of suspicion worms its way into my mind, and when I glance over at El again she's already looking at me.

"Have you been here before?" I ask, thinking back to how well she knows the doors to get around everywhere so far.

El blushes and looks down, but nods.

"I wanted to find the perfect spot," She murmurs. "So when we came together..."

She trails off, still looking down at her feet. She looks so adorable it's almost criminal. I step in front of her and take her other hand, leaning down to kiss her again, my new favorite thing to do.

"What did I ever do in my life to deserve you?" I wonder aloud, which makes her blush pink. It's true though, she's way too perfect to ever be in my league.

I've always been one of the losers, Frogface Wheeler, President of the AV Club. Every girl in Hawkins always seemed grossed out by me, even the ones I'd never even talked to before.

And then I'd met El, scared and alone in the woods. I can't explain _why_ or _how_ or even _when_ I really fell in love with her, I just know that I did, and that she was actually willing to spend time with me. It was like some kind of dream, a perfect girl in the woods that needs my help, too good to be true.

At no point in my life did I ever do anything all that special, nothing noteworthy for the world, not even enough for my dad to be proud of me. Things like finding El happen to special people, not to me.

Except it did happen.

It happened, and now that we can finally be together, I can't get enough.

When we separate again I take my turn to pull her somewhere, toward the water. She resists a little, reminding me with a look that we're still wearing our normal clothes. We leave them in a little pile on the sand before I resume guiding her to the little waves rolling in. She looks a little apprehensive once we get to the edge, but I grip her hand as reassuringly as I possibly can.

The water is warm when I step into it, just what I'd expected. El takes a hesitant step forward, the little waves rolling over her feet.

"One step at a time," I assure her. "That's all you need."

Seeing the corners of her mouth turn up in a hesitant smile sends a tingle through me again. As we take it step by step, the rest of the world just fades away.

Once it gets up to her belly button we stop, and I let go of her hand.

"Okay El, time to teach you how to swim," I start, stepping a little bit closer. "You trust me, right?"

"I trust you," She answers, consciously levelling her breathing.

"Then just lay back in the water," I tell her, and her eyes go wide in slight panic. "Don't worry, I'll hold you up."

I rest my arm against her shoulder blades as I say that to try and lessen her panic. This must seem so much like the bath, and a knot forms in my stomach again.

El takes a few more deep breaths, her eyes locking onto mine for reassurance. I try my best to show that as I slowly move my arm toward the water. She moves with me, grabbing onto my shoulder just in case.

"Good, you're doing really well so far," I say once her back is as close to the water as she can get while still standing. "Now just pick your feet up, and then you'll be floating. Then we can work on swimming."

Her hold on my shoulder tightens and she takes a shakier breath, but she nods. She tenses a couple times, and then just kind of jumps up, throwing her feet out in front of her. I manage to catch her before she goes under, but just barely.

"It's okay, I've got you," I assure her when I can feel her nails through my shirt. "That was a little more forceful than you needed, but it's fine, I won't let go."

She pulls herself closer against me, which I vaguely remember seeing some kids do when I took Holly to her swimming lessons over the summer. They didn't want to move away from the instructors, too scared that they would sink.

Her eyes are wide, flashing around everywhere, and she's still taking deep breaths, the rising and falling of her chest sending little ripples out through the water. Every muscle in her body is tense, which isn't good for floating.

"El," I murmur, getting her attention back on me. Her grip is getting painful on my arm. "I know it's scary, but I promise I've got you. I need you to try to relax a little so you can float."

Maybe this isn't the best idea just yet, we can stand to wait a little while before El learns to swim. I can just carry her over to the shallow section, and then we can sit on the beach together.

Just when I'm about to follow through on that idea, her grip on my arm loosens a little, and she lets her legs float up in front of her.

"Better?" She asks nervously, as if I'd get upset.

"You're doing amazing," I tell her with a smile, glad that I can feel some blood flowing back into my arm. "Just keep trying to relax, and then you'll be floating."

El nods a little, taking more level breaths. Her body gradually starts to get less tense, and I finally become _incredibly_ aware of how close together we are now. If she were any closer against my chest and stomach we'd be fused.

"Perfect," I say once she lets her hand drop from my arm into the water, drifting just next to me. "Okay, now I'm going to let go for a few seconds. Just stay nice and relaxed, just like this, and you'll be floating."

Her eyes start to go wide again, and I can feel the tension coming back.

"Hey, you need to relax to float," I implore again. "I'm not going anywhere, I'm just going to move my hands. If you start to sink, then I'll catch you. Okay?"

She still doesn't seem fully assured, and I curse the lab in my head again. How could they have taken someone so sweet and innocent and done what they did?

"If you want to stop, just say so. I won't make you do anything you're not ready for yet," I tell her, ready to move to the shallows again. "We still have to build sandcastles and hunt for seashells."

"No," She responds adamantly. "I trust you."

It takes a little while, but she manages to relax again, and then she nods at me. I gingerly lower my arms in the water, just a few inches, leaving her suspended in the water all on her own.

She sinks a little without me holding her up, but doesn't go under the water.

"Mike!" She exclaims, and I'm immediately concerned, until I see the grin on her face. "Mike, look! I'm doing it! I'm floating!"

"I see that," I reply, smiling too hard to say much else.

She gets a little _too_ excited though, almost sinking herself if my arms weren't still there waiting for her. I help her stand up again, and she hugs me, soaking the parts of me that hadn't gotten wet yet.

"Thanks, Mike," She mumbles as I hug her back.

"Do you want to go back to the shore?" I ask, the little waves rolling into us every few seconds, but not enough to tip us over.

She nods, taking my hand before I can take hers, and we walk back to the sand together. For a while we just sit together on the nice flat rocks, drying off in the sun and enjoying each other's presence.

Once we're mostly dry again, and it's getting a little _too_ warm in the sun, we decide to start our hunt for seashells. We walk along the edge of the water, though El insists on walking on the side closer to the beach, stopping each time something catches our eyes.

In a little over an hour we find shells that look like fans, spiral horns, even a conch shell that's mostly intact. They come in all kinds of colors, from pure white, to tinged pink and purple, and even some that are completely orange.

We use the shells to decorate our sandcastle, and it definitely needs them. We didn't bring a bucket or shovel with us, so it's basically a mound of damp sand that we pack together by hand, carving a few things out with our fingers.

"I think it's pretty," El comments when we step back from it.

It looks like a toddler's plate on thanksgiving, just decorated with seashells. However, it's _our_ sandcastle, the first one we've ever built together.

"And we can only get better," I add, taking her hand.

"Next time," El murmurs with a smile, which only gets wider when she catches me looking at her. "We'll build it better."

"Yeah, next time," I agree, liking that I can finally say that and mean it.

We decide to leave most of the shells with our sandcastle, all except for one. It had been the first one we found, a fan-esque clam shell tinged with pink. El wants to put it up on the mantle, start our own memories together.

I don't even realize how much time had passed until we get back to our own district and the sun has already set. I guess the sun is always high in that other district so people can enjoy the beach all the time.

The exhaustion sets in quickly on our walk back to our house, and by the time we stumble up the stairs, it takes all of our energy to change into pajamas before collapsing onto the bed together.

"Good night Mike," She whispers, snuggling right up against me.

"Night El," I murmur back, putting an arm around her as I drift into soft darkness.

* * *

Wasn't that nice?

I never pictured El having an easy time learning how to swim, especially after her experiences in the sensory deprivation tank, so getting her to relax and float on her own seems like a nice set of baby steps.

Well, that's all I have for this time around, so...

Until next time!


	4. Chapter 4- A Celebration

Salutations!

When I said I have time again, I meant it, I typed this whole chapter up today(in the last few hours). I haven't actually read through it, but I'm sure it's fine.

I guess we'll all find out how it is...

* * *

The first week in Eternity is as amazing as it is confusing.

It takes a lot of getting used to, especially how all the cabinets, closets, dressers, and appliances work. I manage to talk El into putting a door on the bathroom for privacy, though she never closes it all the way. I've even figured out where some of the doors in Town Hall lead to, finding a directory in the building.

Every morning I get to wake up to El right next to me. Sometimes I wake up before her, sometimes she wakes up before me, but we never wake each other up. We always take the time to just watch, even if it's only for a few minutes. According to her I snore just a little bit, whereas she's always quiet as a mouse.

It takes a few days, but I convince her to upgrade the bed to something a little bigger, just so we won't be in danger of falling. I'm sure it wouldn't be too big a problem though, we always end up tangled in each other by the time we wake up.

Breakfast is almost always Eggos, of various flavors and styles, with whatever sides I think up. I guess nutrition is another thing we need to talk about.

We get visitors three times in the first week. Benny, Barb, and Bob come the day after the beach to finally catch up, and Benny cooks up some amazing burgers for us to eat. The next day my grandparents come to visit us, particularly interested in meeting El since we're already living together. It's more than a little awkward to get the talk from your grandfather, especially when he looks younger than your actual father, but he just laughs it off. I can only hope my grandmother didn't have to do the same with El, that would be _beyond_ embarrassing.

The third time they visit is on my sixth day, the day after we go to the park and discover that El _really_ likes being pushed on the swings. All five of them come over for dinner, and Benny fires up the grill in the backyard. Barb and my grandmother make a whole bunch of sides, Bob and my grandfather set up a long table in the garden so we can sit outside, and the two of us get shooed away from helping.

It's a very nice evening, with lots of laughing and some fake dancing when Bob turns on the stereo. It makes me wish I'd learned to cook at some point, too, because the food is absolutely amazing. El looks skeptically at some of the dishes, but finds a few that she likes after I let her have some of mine.

"So, are you kids going to the festival tomorrow?" My grandfather asks while his wife cuts up some pie for dessert.

"Festival?" I question, looking to El for an answer.

"If you want to," She says, though that still doesn't tell me what it is.

"What festival?" I ask, looking back at my grandfather.

He gets a little smile on his face, and I can still pick out the little lines on his face that had gotten deeper with age.

"Once a month, or thereabouts, there's a nice little celebration in each district," He explains, accepting a beer from Benny as the man walks by. "It's to celebrate the lives of everyone who's joined Eternity in the last month. There's a bunch of carnival games in the park, then some fireworks once it gets dark, and a nice little dance under the stars."

Carnival? Fireworks? Dance? It's like the whole celebration is designed for us. Those are all things on our list, and this saves us the trouble of having to find something in another district. With that in mind, I turn back to El.

"Do you want to go?" I ask, knowing how she gets around crowds.

"Together?" She murmurs, getting the familiar apprehension in her eyes.

"Of course," I tell her, taking her hands. "I'm never leaving you alone again."

She smiles, and then we hug.

"And they say chivalry is dead in the world," My grandfather comments, startling us both. I'd completely forgotten he was there until he spoke again. He gives me a look and a puts a hand on my shoulder. "Keep up the good work, Mike. Lord knows where you learned it from though, considering your oaf of a father."

"John, you stop that," My grandmother chastises from further away.

"I can't help it if it's true," The man responds, holding up his hands in defeat.

"I know it's true, but we don't need to bring it up," She retorts. "We're here to have a nice evening with our grandson and his girlfriend."

El and I blush at the last part, still holding each others hands. This is how it _should_ have been, a normal couple being embarrassed by family and friends.

"So Mike, when's the wedding?" Barb asks as she goes past with some empty dishes. She definitely has a smirk on her face as we turn even redder.

"I'd hope he gets a little hair on his chest before we get there," Benny comments, scraping down the residue on the grill. "And maybe a haircut too."

One of my hands unconsciously goes to my hair, long and messy as usual. I've never seen the problem with it before.

"Don't listen to him, Mike, he's just trying to scare you," Bob says, helping Barb clear the table.

"Don't be like that, Bob," Benny complains with a half-smirk, half-grin. "Someone has to put the fear of God in him, it's a staple of a young person's relationship."

I can feel my face getting more and more red the longer everyone talks, until I feel fingers in my hair. A quick glance shows El smiling at me, reaching up to play with my hair, just like she does every morning. I'm sure she can feel the heat radiating off of my face by that point.

"I like your hair," She whispers, just loud enough for me to hear.

Thankfully Bob comes back with a cold bottle of water for me. I down at least half of it in a few big gulps, much to everyone's amusement. My focus is entirely on trying to fight down the blush on my face, so I can't even say something witty.

Still, I can't say I'd want it any other way.

XxX

We sleep late the next morning, having been up late at our dinner party. This time I wake up before she does, getting the privilege of seeing how peaceful she looks when she sleeps.

Looking at her now, you wouldn't be able to tell what she's been through. She looks like a sleeping angel, pure and innocent, her mouth just slightly parted even though she's breathing through her nose. The covers move just slightly as she breathes, our legs are tangled together below us, her hands are against my chest, my right arm is beneath her head as an extra pillow, and my left is wrapped around her, holding her closer against me.

Just like every other morning, I wonder how I ever ended up with someone like her. Everything about her is absolutely perfect, and I'm just me. I'm just an awkward, average, lanky, skinny, nerdy kid from Hawkins Indiana.

Her eyes start to flutter open at the thought, and my heart melts in my chest. The way she looks at me, every morning, like I'm the greatest thing ever, is an indescribable feeling. And when she snuggles even closer to me than before, I know I'm the luckiest guy to ever live.

"Morning," She murmurs, closing her eyes again once she's closer.

"Morning," I repeat, hugging her ever closer.

I debate just staying there all day and forgetting about the festival, but my desire to do anything and everything I can with El wins out. It takes a little persuasion, and a promise of Eggos, to get El out of bed.

Getting her to the carnival is much easier after I tell her about all the corny games and rides. She insists, more than once, that we have to play the ring toss. I insist, to myself, that I'm going to win her one of those giant stuffed animals.

When we get to the park, it's exactly how I remember the carnivals in Hawkins. Men and women in brightly colored outfits, even a few clowns among them, and people walking around with just about any kind of food on a stick.

El catches sight of the ring toss right away, taking off at a run and pulling me with her. As it turns out, El's aim is absolutely terrible, but her powers help. She just discreetly wipes at her nose once she's done.

I do fairly well at getting the rings on the bottles, which leads me to believe that the bottles at the carnivals in Hawkins were rigged. I've never been very good at these games, but now I manage to win a novelty hat with a propellor on it.

El giggles when she puts it on my head, blowing on the propellor to make it spin. I roll my eyes and pull her along to other games.

We stop at a booth with balloons and darts, and El watches with fascination as the people in front of us try to pop the balloons on the wall.

"Step right up, step right up, try to pop the balloons," The man at the counter says when its our turn. "You get five darts a turn, try to pop as many as possible. Green balloons are worth one point, blue are worth two, and red are worth three. The red ones are a little thicker though, so you'll need to hit it harder."

This is perfect, I'm actually good at throwing darts. We used to have a dart board in the basement that we'd mess around with, and I got really good at it.

"Watch this," I say to El with confidence.

In quick succession I pop two blue balloons and a green.

"Try for the red ones," El insists excitedly, and I just can't say no.

My first shot hits its mark, but fails to pop the balloon.

"Remember, the red ones are thicker," The carny reminds me with a grin. "You'll need a little more oomph."

I take a deep breath, determined to pop this balloon for El. I judge the angle, bring back my arm, and let the dart fly.

Mentally cursing myself, I know that it doesn't have enough force behind it. Physical strength has never been my forte.

 _POP!_

I'm startled when the balloon pops with a snap, the dart embedding in the cork backboard. It's almost like...

"Did you...?" I start, turning to El.

She stops me from talking with a kiss, though I can't say I'm complaining. When she pulls away, leaving me grinning like an idiot, she blows on my propellor hat.

"That's a whopping eight points, which gets you the middle shelf," The man tells us, and El points excitedly at a purple sequined hat, kind of like a fedora, in the middle. "Excellent choice, little lady. Just watch this."

El gasps when little lights flick on all around the hat. This time I get to put it on her head, and she looks adorable in it.

We keep going around to other booths, winning little prizes here and there. El gets a pair of novelty sunglasses ten times too big for her head, we get a matching pair of fake flower necklaces, and I snag a pair of sunglasses that look like dollar signs.

It starts getting dark around us, but it doesn't really matter. At least not to me, I still need to win one of the giant stuffed animals from the top shelf for El.

"Let's go to that one," El says, starting toward a familiar attraction. I groan internally as she pulls me along, this one is always embarrassing.

"Test your strength!" The man next to it announces, hefting the oversized mallet into the air above his head. "Be the first to ring the bell, and you leave with the champion's belt!"

He gestures to a display case behind him, where a giant fancy belt is sitting. It's like the kind people get for wrestling championships or something.

"You should do it, Mike," El insists, and my eyes widen.

"I can't do _that_ ," I respond, gesturing to the tower, probably over twenty feet high. "I'm not strong enough, I'd just embarrass myself."

"I think you're plenty strong," She tells me, planting a kiss on my cheek.

I'm sure she knows that I can't say no to her now, which is probably why she did it.

Before I can trudge over to the game, a fully grown man steps up with a confident grin. My heart sinks a little bit, at least before there was the off chance I could win by some fluke, now there's no point in trying.

"We have a taker!" The carny man shouts, garnering some attention.

The man takes the mallet in both hands, hefting it over his head. When he slams it down the little puck in the tower shoots up into the air.

It stops just shy of the bell, still getting the reading of 'Hercules' on the tower. There's a general round of applause as he hands the mallet back to the carny.

I hesitate for a few moments, hoping the crowd will disperse a little, but El just pushes me forward.

"Another taker?" The man asks with a grin, and I nod nervously. "Another taker!"

He hands me the mallet, and I almost drop it then and there. I can hear a few giggles in the crowd, and I look back at El. She just gives me an encouraging smile.

With effort I heft the mallet up, knowing I need to be gripping it toward the end of the handle when it hits to get the maximum force. My arms almost start to shake as I take a breath, and then bring it down with as much force as I can muster.

 _DING!_

I can't tell who's more shocked, me, the carny, the crowd, or the guy who went before me. It takes the carny man a few seconds to compose himself again.

"We have a winner!" He exclaims, probably trying not to sound shocked.

El tackles me from behind, wrapping her arms around me with a squeal.

"I told you," She whispers in my ear as I try not to fall over.

"This is yours now, son," The carny man tells me, bringing the belt over.

It's heavier than I expected, made out of leather with metal plating. El insists that I put it on, and it's so big that it covers most of my stomach as well.

Once the crowd starts to clear, the man goes back to enticing people to test their strength. El and I walk away slowly, and I give her a look.

"What?" She asks innocently.

"You used your powers, didn't you?" I respond, though it doesn't seem to faze her.

"Maybe I did," She answers. "Maybe I didn't."

"That's cheating, El," I point out.

"It's not _really_ cheating," She tells me, stopping so she can take my other hand. "Just because you might not be as strong _here_ ," She squeezes my bicep. "Doesn't mean you aren't strong."

"The game was for testing strength though," I reply, though I know I'm not going to convince her. She's already made up her mind.

"You're a lot stronger than they are," She says, staring straight into my eyes. "You're just strong _here_ and _here_."

She taps my chest over my heart, and then my head. And as if that isn't enough, she gently pulls my head down so she can kiss me.

It isn't a long kiss, but it's one of my favorites. Her lips taste like funnel cake and popcorn, and I'm sure mine are the same way.

"Come on, there's still a few we haven't gone to yet," She says once we separate.

I know better than to argue with her, and at the next booth I finally get my chance.

It's one of the water gun games, where you have to shoot the water into the clown's mouth and get the marker to rise up the fastest. These had been my specialty whenever the party went to carnivals.

I watch one round just to see what kind of water pressure I'm dealing with, and start to plan my shooting angle, the arc of the water over the few feet between gun and clown mouth, and how each gun works independently.

Once the group clears out, at least most of them, I squeeze El's hand and sit down. She watches in fascination as the game resets itself from last time.

As soon as the bell rings to start I press down the button trigger, making a slight adjustment to my gun and then leaving it exactly where it needs to be. It's a close race, but I win it by millimeters. The column in front of me lights up to show that I won, and I turn to El with a grin.

"That gets you anything from the top shelf, son," The carny informs us.

"Pick whatever you want," I tell El, and she excitedly scans the shelf.

She finally decides on a giant teddy bear, bigger than Holly.

"Thanks, Mike," She says excitedly, doing her best to hug me around the bear.

"You're welcome," I respond with a slight blush.

I take the bear from her so she can see where she's going, holding it behind me like I'm giving it a piggy back ride.

"I like this part," El tells me, planting another kiss on my lips. With the bear on my back she doesn't even have to reach up.

 _POP! POP! POP!_

We're both startled at the sound, until we see the bright bursts of color in the sky.

"Pretty," El murmurs.

"Really pretty," I agree, though I can't say I'm looking at the fireworks.

We find a nice empty bench where we sit next to our new giant bear. I put my arm around her shoulders, she leans her head against me, and we watch the fireworks together. The view is spectacular, of the fireworks and of El.

* * *

I guess that went pretty well. Maybe I should just stop proofreading everything...

This idea came into my head this morning, so I edited my original plan for a celebration. I love the way it came out, I might include it in some future stories. Just the idea of Mike and El at a carnival is adorable to me. He'd be trying so hard to win every game so she can pick a prize, and she'd use her powers to help him out, and it would be so fluffy and amazing.

Just putting the word out, I'm planning to do a story of all prompts, probably once I finish this story. If you have a specific scenario that you want a one-shot of, pm me or put it in a review(I would prefer a pm though) and I'll do my best to make it a reality. I'm limiting it to one-shots, but if you have connected one-shots(i.e in the same continuity, but different events), I'm accepting those as well. I just love writing about Stranger Things too much for my own good.

Until next time!


	5. Chapter 5- The Dance

Hello, magnificent readers!

As soon as you think you're in the clear, life throws another curve ball. First my internet went down, then I couldn't log into my account, and then my internet went down AGAIN!

Oh well, back to the fluff...

* * *

Fireworks never last as long as you want them to, but they're always amazing to watch while they're there. Of course, I only half-watch the fireworks, more than happy to watch El's reaction to them instead.

Once they end we head home to get ready for the dance. Everyone said they would come to walk over with us, and Barb is coming a little early to help El get ready, so we don't want to be late.

"I waited to see those," She tells me as we walk back to the house.

"You waited?" I ask, shifting the bear on my back so its arm isn't blocking my view of El. "You mean you didn't go to _any_ of the other festivals while you've been here? That was an entire year."

"I didn't want to go without you," She says with a self-conscious blush. "You seemed like you really wanted to do it together."

"I did, but still, you didn't have to avoid having any fun just for me," I insist, a little knot of guilt forming in my stomach, and then some suspicion burrows its way in. "And how did you know I wanted to do that with you? Could you still find me with your powers? All the way from here?"

She hesitates before answering, staring down at her feet on the sidewalk.

"I tried with my powers, but it was too much energy," She answers quietly. "There's something called the reflecting pool here, it lets you see the people you left behind. I watched from there."

"Reflecting pool...?" I murmur, the term vaguely registering in my mind. "Didn't that lady at Town Hall say they almost banned you from the reflecting pool?"

El blushes a furious red at that, which means it's definitely something significant.

"You're not supposed to go too often," She says, slipping her arm through mine again despite the bear. "Something about having to move on and accept being here, but..." She trails off, her hold getting tighter. "But I had to see you, I could feel it. I went almost every day, at the same time."

"El..." I whisper in concern when I see the tears on her cheeks.

It doesn't take much to get her to stop, at which point she hugs me without any prompting. I can only hug her back with one arm without dropping the bear, but that doesn't mean I don't hug her just as tightly.

"I'm sorry," She tells me through the tears. "You needed me, and I couldn't..."

"El, no, it's not your fault," I respond, surprising myself at how much more forceful I sound than normal. "I wish everything could have been different, but _nothing_ was your fault. Don't you ever think that, El, _ever_. Please."

We stand there on the sidewalk for a while, the massive bear obscuring us from the other people milling around. To them, we probably just look like a love-struck couple out during the festival.

El steps back a little and wipes her eyes dry, but I don't let go of her.

"Sorry," She mumbles, looking down. "I'm making a scene again..."

"You don't need to apologize, especially not to me," I assure her, leaning forward a little so our foreheads touch together, at least as much as our hats allow. "All that matters now is that we're together. Everything else is in the past. Okay?"

She only half-nods, probably only half-convinced, but that's my work for the future. I have the privilege and the honor of helping El work through any problem, of being the one to comfort her when she's scared or upset, of helping her learn about the world, and of learning all I can from her and about her.

For all eternity.

With a gentle guide, my arm around her waist, we resume our walk home. I question going to the dance with her tonight, wondering if we should just stay home on the couch and watch a movie instead.

"Are we still going to the dance?" El asks after a little while. Moments like these make me question whether or not she can read minds too.

"If you feel up to it," I answer. "If not, there's always next month, right? Or literally any month after that for all of time."

She giggles a little at my bad joke, which is good because it means she isn't upset anymore. At least not _as_ upset.

"Let's go tonight," She says after her giggling subsides. "This one is special."

We make that decision final just as the house comes into view. It's a bit of a challenge getting the bear through the door, but we manage it alright, and plop it down in the lazy boy.

Almost on cue, the doorbell rings just a few minutes later.

Not only has Barb come with a makeup kit in hand, and a spectacular dress on, it seems like our whole circle has shown up. Bob, Benny, and my grandparents file into our living room, eyeing the giant bear in amusement.

"Let's get you ready," Barb says to El, taking her hand and leading her toward the stairs. My grandmother goes with them, and for some reason she gives me a wink.

"You've never been to a dance before, have you Mike?" Bob asks once they're gone. I can feel my face heat up a little.

"Is it that obvious?" I reply in embarrassment.

"Painfully," My grandfather answers.

"And there's no way in hell I'm letting some schmuck take that girl to a dance," Benny adds, giving me a pointed look. "You need to be looking presentable."

I gulp nervously, formal events are foreign to me. At best I could probably find a good sweater to wear over a shirt and tie, a nice sweater with stripes. Stripes have always been good for me.

"Come on," My grandfather says, leading me toward the stairs. "We'll get you sorted out so Benny doesn't kill you."

He and Bob chuckle when I send a nervous glance toward Benny. This may be funny to them, but he could probably kill me, again, with one punch.

We go to my parents' old room, and Bob goes straight to the closet. They pull out a whole bunch of options, and I already feel a little overwhelmed. There's at least five different shades of blue, not to mention the other colors, and more than ten jackets. I feel a little dizzy once my grandfather starts pulling ties out of a drawer.

"I don't think you're really a tux kind of guy, are you?" Bob questions, holding said garment with uncertainty.

I shake my head, so far out of my element that it's not even funny.

In the end I wear a light blue shirt with a red tie, thankfully under a nice gray sweater with some stripes on it, plus black pants and some shiny shoes. My grandfather insists that I need to wear a jacket over the top, thrusting a brown one at me, to which Bob rolls his eyes.

And so I find myself waiting in the living room again, resisting the urge to pace back and forth in anticipation. Benny had only nodded when he saw me, which I hope means he approves.

The sound of people coming down the stairs brings me out of my thoughts. Barb and my grandmother are the first ones down, with big smiles on their faces.

"We'll leave you kids alone," My grandmother says, walking over and giving me a hug. "Don't want to ruin the moment."

I can feel my heart thumping in my chest as they all file out again, only barely registering their goodbyes and promises to find us later. Once the door closes, I'm pretty sure the only sound is how loud my heart is beating.

The footsteps start again...

Then I see her, and I'm sure that my heart stops. She looks...

"Beautiful..." I murmur, almost forgetting how to breathe.

El always looks amazing, no matter what, but this is just... an entirely different level altogether. My word doesn't even do her justice.

She's wearing a blue dress, with little red polka dots all over it, sleeves down to her elbows, and a red belt around her waist. Her face has just a little makeup on it, enough that I can't help but focus on her eyes, and their faint eyeshadow, and her lips, with the perfect amount of lipstick that looks so completely natural on her I'm not even sure she's wearing it at all.

"Mike?" She asks tentatively.

I come out of my stupor immediately, my mouth closing with a clack of teeth, and my face flushes red when I realize that I'd pretty much just been drooling at her.

"You look beautiful," I manage to tell her, finally getting my body in motion to walk over to her. We take each other's hands, and suddenly everything is perfect again.

I still can't fathom why anyone as beautiful, as kind, as strong, and just as plain _amazing_ as El could have fallen for someone like me. It's like some kind of movie where the nerd can finally get the girl.

"You look pretty," El says with a smile, her cheeks turning a little pink.

"How did I get this lucky?" I wonder aloud, and she squeezes my hands.

"I think _I'm_ the lucky one here," She corrects, leaning up to plant a kiss on my cheek. "You know everything about me, but you're still here."

"I'll always be here," I whisper, planting a kiss of my own on her cheek. An indescribable feeling starts to bubble up inside me, and when our eyes connect with each other again, I just can't help myself. "I love you."

This time feels different than the last time I said it, somehow it just feels like more of a fact. Last time I'd said it, for the first time, after a cheesy joke, and it had felt like I was floating. This time, though, it feels like the single most important thing I could ever say, especially to El.

It feels _right_.

"I love you too," She murmurs back, and suddenly the whole world disappears.

We both lean toward each other, our lips finding one another with a whole new meaning. I don't know if the kiss is long or short, full or just a brush of our lips together, but it doesn't matter. In that single act we both know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, against every irrational fear we both still have in our minds, that we want to be together, forever.

So we go to the dance, and it's like we have some kind of connection between us, one that never existed before. We walk through the last of the fair, find the giant pavilion they've set up for the dance, following the crowd and the sound of music. Neither of us say anything, our conversations happening in the quick glances at each other out of the corners of our eyes, through the gentle squeezes of each other's hands, and somehow just from _feeling_ each other's presence.

I'm not sure what I really expected the dance to look like, but whatever it was pales in comparison to what it is. The pavilion doesn't have a roof on it, revealing the stars above us, with soft white lights spaced around to give the inside a glow. Along the sides of the tent are some fancy decorations, and I know for certain that this is nothing like the Snowball would have been.

"Do you want to dance?" I ask, realizing that we've just been standing inside the doorway for a while, probably in the way.

"I don't...know how," She answers sheepishly.

"I don't either," I tell her, gently rubbing the back of her hand. "Do you want to figure it out?"

She smiles and nods, giving me that warm fuzzy feeling in my stomach again. With what I hope is some confidence, I lead her out onto the dance floor, finding a nice open space amongst all the other people.

"Okay," I say, hoping I can remember what they did on tv. "Like this."

I gently move her arms to my shoulders, and tentatively put mine on her waist. I don't know why I'm still so nervous, especially since I can somehow still _feel_ how happy she is.

My nervousness doesn't last long as she adjusts her arms around my neck instead, sidling just a little closer. We start to move along to the music, and the song faintly registers in my mind, Every Breath You Take.

I'll remember that later, because now it's _our_ song, the first song we ever danced to, but right now only one thing is on my mind.

El.

She has a smile on her face, and her happiness is practically radiating off of her. And as if that weren't good enough for the rest of eternity, something just seems to pull us together like a magnet. Our lips touch, not a long kiss, or a deep one, but somehow better. Everything seems better since our last kiss, but this rises above all else.

It's almost like our minds connect when our lips touch, and I can feel everything she feels. There are so many things going on in her mind, so many incredible, beautiful, wonderful things that I want to spend the rest of my life learning about.

But above all, we share one feeling unlike any other. The same certainty that had passed between us before, that I love her with every fiber of my being and every ounce of my soul, and that she feels exactly the same way.

And so, as we dance beneath the stars, I get a feeling I haven't had for the longest time, ever since El disappeared. Something I never realized was so important until I lost her, and that I'd stopped myself from feeling once we were reunited, too scared that she didn't feel the same way, or that she'd realize how far out of my league she is. Except, she _does_ feel the same.

And I finally feel complete.

* * *

I was looking forward to this one.

I tried my best to recreate their scene from the Snowball just because it's so adorable and amazing. And as for the whole connection thing, it just seemed appropriate for them to have some kind of link between them. It's not necessarily a telepathic link, more like an empathic link where they understand each other's emotions rather than specifically their thoughts. Of course, El is psychic, so I'm sure she could do something with it if she wanted, but that's a story for another time.

There are only three more chapters planned for this story, so we're getting toward the end. Originally it was two, but due to some suggestions from the comments, I'm adding another chapter, so thank you to people who reviewed!

Until next time!


	6. Chapter 6- Reflection

Hello, internet people!

This is by far the most difficult thing I've ever written(even more so than writing No More), and also the longest single chapter I've ever written. In the font, size, and spacing I use, this takes up 71 pages. The rest of this story combined has taken up about 41.

A huge shout out to my new Beta Reader, Writing Tired, for getting this back to me so quickly! They've only posted one story so far(which is sad, but has a happy ending), but we have similar styles, and they seem like a very detail oriented person. I'm sure we'll be seeing some great work from them soon, so definitely check out Writing Tired!

As a warning, this chapter is full of very sad themes, as it focuses on how the characters are dealing with Mike's death. Each one has their own perspective, which share some points between them, but offer their own unique takes on how each character copes(or doesn't cope) with everything.

There will be a much longer note at the end, so please check that out for some clarity.

On with the show...

* * *

It didn't bother me at first.

In the first month, everything was just about as perfect as it could possibly be. El and I are together again, and I can finally introduce her to all the amazing things in the world around her. Not only that, we _live_ together. We sleep in the _same_ bed every night. We get to share _everything_.

And yet, I still can't seem to settle in.

I have everything I ever wanted, and in Eternity I never have to worry about anything like back home. There's always enough food, water, clothes, and even entertainment. El is always by my side, and I'm always by hers. By all rights, I should feel like I'm in heaven, because technically, I guess I am.

Something just keeps itching at my mind though, no matter how much I try to ignore it. El definitely notices, and she's asked more than once, but even I don't know what my problem is.

"Mike."

I'm drawn back to the world around me when El calls my name. I take a second to get my bearings again. We're still laying in bed, ready for a nice lazy day, just the way we like it.

"Is something wrong?" She asks, a gentle finger tracing my jawline.

"I'm fine, just thinking," I answer with a small sigh, turning my attention to drinking in the sight of her. No matter how many times I get to wake up next to her, the feeling of seeing her so peaceful is intoxicating.

El pouts at me, and then my breath catches in my throat when she climbs on top of me, the covers sliding off of her. She straddles my stomach, pinning my arms to the bed and staring down at me.

"Tell me what's wrong," She says, keeping our eyes locked together.

"There's nothing wrong," I insist, and technically I'm not lying. It's probably all just in my head anyway. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine," She tells me matter-of-factly, reading my mind again. "You've been staring off into space for days."

I try to switch our position somehow, but she's significantly stronger than I remember, physically at least. She'll always be the strongest person I know.

Failing to move, I sigh instead. With our newfound connection, I'm surprised she didn't do this sooner. I feel a little guilty at the thought; she was probably waiting for me to open up, just like she always does.

"I don't know what's wrong," I admit, the knot in my stomach loosening just a little bit now that she knows. "I just feel like something's... I don't know, missing."

As I look up into the soft, chocolate colored eyes of the girl I love, I know for certain that it has nothing to do with her. She's everything I could ever want and more, and somehow, she feels the same about me.

El just smiles at me, leaning down to brush our lips together. Just like every other time since that night, it's like I can feel her entire mind when we connect like that, and I assume she can feel mine. It only lasts a few blissful seconds, but I always feel infinitely better afterward.

"Get dressed," She tells me, rolling off of me, and then off the bed. "There's somewhere I need to take you."

I want to protest, until I see the look on her face. That look always means that I should just stop thinking and do what she says. I groan and get up as she leaves with her bundle of clothes for the day. She comes back once I pick out my striped shirt of the day, dropping her pajamas on the unmade bed, so I go to the bathroom and change quickly.

We grab a couple eggos for the way, El slipping her arm through mine and guiding me to whatever destination has suddenly piqued her interest.

As it turns out, that destination is Town Hall.

"Why are we here?" I question, looking between El and the building.

"You miss them," She answers, which only makes me more confused. "You're not with them anymore, so you miss them. You want to know how they're doing."

It only dawns on me then that she's talking about our friends, and my family, back home. Now that she says it out loud, I can definitely agree that it might be, that it almost certainly is, the reason I've been feeling so weird.

As happy as I am to be with El forever and always, or really _because_ of that, I miss everyone. Now that I can finally be happy, I want to be happy with all of them too, but I can't, not anymore.

"I thought going to the reflecting pool was bad, though," I remember.

"It's bad if you go too often," El informs me. "I went every day for a year, which is why they almost banned me. Most people go every once in a while, just to see how the people they left behind are doing."

I can't think of anything to say to that, and when I'm silent for a while El continues to pull me forward. The lady at the desk greets us as she normally does.

"What can we do for you today?" She asks when we stop in front of her desk.

"I'm taking him to the reflection pool," El tells her, to which the woman nods and hands over a key.

"Don't stay too long!" She calls after us as El continues on her mission.

She leads me to a different spot than where the seemingly infinite hallways are. The door is larger and more ornate, with the same infinity sign inside a circle engraved in the center. El fits the key into the lock and opens it up, the hinges creaking and in need of oil.

The inside is only dimly lit, the light fixtures on the walls reminiscent of the torches I used to include in dungeon campaigns. In the middle of the room is a massive basin on a pedestal. It's at least ten feet across, and raised so it's about the same height as my stomach. The water is incredibly clear, and yet also seems to have some kind of blue glow to it.

El closes the door behind us before stepping up to the basin, gesturing for me to do the same. I can't help the little knot of apprehension that forms in my stomach. What are we going to see?

"Just focus on the person you want to see, and hold the rim of the basin," She tells me, laying a hand over mine when I do. "Only you can see the person you're thinking about."

I don't even know where to start, there are so many people I want to see. How can I choose one over another?

"We can stay as long as you need," She assures me. "You can see them all, if that's what you want."

I almost chuckle a little at our current role reversal. Normally _I'm_ the one making sure _she's_ okay, not that I'm complaining. There's nothing I love to do more than get to look after El, but it feels good that it's not only one way. Sometimes I feel guilty that it's always me comforting her, or explaining things to her, because it always seems to remind her about her past.

I hope I make her feel the way I feel now, with her hand still over mine, a smile on her face meant just for me. If I can do that, for her, maybe I have accomplished something worthy of her.

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes as everyone flashes through my mind. Where to start? My list comes to mind, and that seems as good as anything.

"Nancy," I murmur, my sister's face coming to the forefront.

When I open my eyes again the water starts to shimmer, until a picture appears.

XxX

 **Nancy**

The wind blows hard around them, the members of the little group huddling against each other in the chill. The sun is nearing the horizon already, the days already impossibly short as winter quickly approaches.

None of it really matters to them, their focus is on the grave in front of them, and the one just next to it. Written in big letters on the front, it reads:

Michael Wheeler

January 19, 1971 - October 22, 1985

Of the seven people gathered there, one month to the day that their friend, their _brother_ , had died, not a single one has dry eyes. Some cry harder than others, the wound still as fresh as the first day, and others try not to cry at all, comforting their friends instead.

One by one they each leave a flower, white lilies, in front of the stone. One by one they each murmur a few words. One by one they start to cry all over again.

As darkness starts to set over them they begin to leave, none of them able to say any words to each other out loud.

Despite Jonathan's offer to come for dinner, Nancy goes home. She doesn't want to see the looks from her boyfriend, or from his mother. She doesn't want to hear about how they _understand_ , or how they're there to help. All she wants is to hear her brother again, to see him put syrup on his eggs no matter how much she hates it, to be able to _hold_ her brother _one_ more time.

But she can't.

Instead, she has to smile and pretend everything is perfectly fine, that everything can somehow be back to normal. She has to be strong, for her mother, and for her sister especially. That's what Mike wanted.

She drives around for a while, hoping to clear her head, but only succeeding in reminding herself of times Mike had been to each place she sees.

When she walks in the door the signs of how the family is taking it are evident everywhere. Despite how clean everything is, it's still in disarray. All the furniture is off kilter, the pictures and ornaments around the house don't line up the way they used to, all signs that their mother has given up.

"Nancy? Is that you?" Mrs. Wheeler calls from the kitchen.

"Who else would it be?" Nancy snaps back. "I'm the only other one with a key."

They'd replaced the locks after Ted moved the last of his things out.

If her mother notices her tone, she doesn't say anything. Nancy doesn't wait to see if her mother says anything else, going to her room to be alone.

Once her door shuts behind her, she collapses onto the bed and cries into her pillow, something she does a lot more often as of late.

"I'm sorry, Mike," She chokes out quietly, raising her head from the pillow just enough to look at the picture of her brother on her nightstand. It's the last one any of them ever took of him, in his Ghostbusters costume. He didn't even smile for it. "This is my fault..."

Her sobs redouble in strength at the thought of just how badly she'd failed her brother. He'd needed her, and she couldn't even do enough to help him. She'd pushed him off on Dr. Owens to fix his problems, and now he's gone.

Forever.

Once her cries turn to dry sobs again, after how long she has no idea, she sits up, sliding a familiar bag out from under her bed. She'd thought it was so well hidden, that nobody else in the house knew about it, but she was wrong.

And now Mike is dead because of it.

The little handgun is heavy in her hand as she stares down at it, the same way she's stared at it every night since she got it back. It hadn't been hard, the gun had just been sitting on a desk in the station with a tag on it, and nobody was going to do anything with it. It's not like there was any question about the gun.

It still has five bullets left inside of it, the same ones that had been in it that night. Even the empty casing of the bullet that killed him is still there, silently calling to her every night. It would be so easy, to just end it all and be done with it, not have to deal with any of the bullshit anymore.

She turns the barrel toward her, her thumb hovering over the trigger. All she has to do is squeeze, and it will all be over.

"Nancy!"

The shout comes with a knock at the door, Holly's voice easily carrying through the wood to her sister.

"Mom says dinner's ready!"

"I'll be down in a second," Nancy responds, knowing her sister will hear her.

As the footsteps recede toward the stairs, Nancy drops the gun back in the bag. Mike gave her a mission, to be there for Holly even if she couldn't be there for him, and she _will not_ fail this time. If it's the only thing she ever does in her life, she'll make sure that Holly stays happy and healthy, forever.

She stuffs the bag back under her bed, putting the smile back on her face. She'll keep going, one day at a time, for Mike.

XxX

 **Mrs. Wheeler**

Nothing is going right today. Or any day really.

She'd slept past her alarm this morning, so she'd almost been late to her job interview. At the same time, she'd completely forgotten that Holly needed to get to school somehow, but thankfully Nancy had taken her.

The interview had been less than ideal, the man who met with her had only been interested in getting a date, not offering her a job. If that was just about being a receptionist for a local law firm, she dreads to think how the other interviews she has lined up will go.

She'd picked Holly up after kindergarten, and tried to run some errands, but she forgot to put her wallet in her pocket book before leaving the house. Even when they get home and she finds it, she realizes she needs to make a trip to the bank to get some cash.

She tries to put some effort into cleaning and straightening up the house, managing to move a few chairs back to where they need to be, but it's just too much. They'd moved everything around that night, a month ago today, and she can't bring herself to move it back. It would be like pretending none of it ever happened, and she's not ready to move past it yet.

Holly comes in every so often to get her homework checked, or ask for a snack, or get some juice or water, but other than that Karen just sits at the table. Dozens of papers sit in front of her, all needing her attention. Joyce had helped her organize them, and assured her that she's more than capable of being a single parent, but Karen still can't seem to believe her.

All the other parents of Mike's group have been so helpful, with everything. Joyce helped her with the funeral preparations, and still helps her cope with the day to day. Mrs. Henderson comes over sometimes during the day to talk, and she always brings a casserole or something for the Wheeler's to have. Both of Lucas' parents come around frequently, often with Erica to play with Holly, and make sure that she's keeping her head on her shoulders. Mrs. Sinclair even set up a few interviews for her, later next week.

Even Steve has offered some help, in the form of his dad. As a partner at the largest real estate firm in the area, they could find somewhere new for them to live, and sell the house, if it's ever too difficult to stay there any longer. She assured him that they'll be keeping the house, but unless she can get a job to pay for other expenses, the alimony payments from Ted won't cover all the bills.

It takes a while for her to notice how long she's been sitting there, staring hopelessly at the papers in front of her, and she finally remembers that she needs to put something on for dinner. However, she's at a complete loss for what to make until she opens the fridge, seeing half of one of Mrs. Henderson's casseroles sitting on a shelf.

As she sticks that in the oven, she hears the door open and shut.

"Nancy?" She calls. "Is that you?"

"Who else would it be?" Her daughter retorts. "I'm the only other one with a key."

Karen grimaces, but doesn't comment. It's been this way ever since the funeral. All she ever wanted was for her kids to trust her enough to talk to her, but after everything, she doubts it can ever happen. With Nancy at least.

She doesn't blame her daughter, though, far from it. The way she sees it, none of it would have happened if she hadn't been so blind. She'd seen how upset Mike was, but she just pushed it off on Nancy at the first offer, and then assumed that it was under control. She'd been the one to let him stay home that day, even after he put so much effort into telling her and Holly that he loved them. She'd even _come back_ while he was still alive, she'd called his name, but she was more focused on her meeting with the divorce lawyer. She'd been in the shower when it happened, she'd even _heard_ a bang, but had assumed it was because she dropped her shampoo bottle.

She'd _failed_ her son, in every possible way.

When the phone rings, she almost jumps out of her skin, clutching at her chest as her pulse races. She almost misses the call by the time she picks up.

"Hello?" She asks, putting on her best 'okay' voice.

"Hi, Karen, this is Jim Hopper," The person on the other end greets.

"Chief Hopper?" She repeats, as if she can't believe what she's hearing. They haven't spoken since the funeral. "How can I help you?"

"I know we haven't spoken for a while now, but I heard that you're looking for a job somewhere in town," He responds, which only serves to confuse her. "Florence has been asking us to find another secretary to help her down at the station, someone who can take over when she retires in a few years. If you're interested, the job's yours."

Karen Wheeler is rendered absolutely speechless, her mind shifting to the slew of interviews she has scheduled for the next week. Most of them are in the towns around Hawkins, but if she can get something closer...

"Karen?" Hopper questions, wondering if she's still there.

"Yes, sorry, I'm still here," Karen apologizes quickly. "I was just a little surprised by the offer. It's just very sudden."

"I won't ask for your answer now," Hopper assures her. "If you want to come down and talk about it tomorrow, I'll be there all day, and Flo is normally there for the mornings on weekends."

"That would be perfect," Karen tells him. "Thank you so much for the offer."

"You don't need to thank me," Hopper replies. "It's the least I can do."

They exchange a few more pleasantries before hanging up, and Karen seems visibly relieved. The stacks of papers on her dining room table don't seem so hopeless anymore. She won't let what's left of her family fall apart, not while Mike's picture is still on her mantlepiece.

"Holly, can you go tell Nancy that dinner's ready?" She calls to her youngest daughter in the next room.

XxX

 **Holly**

It's not the same without Mikey around.

First her dad had left without saying goodbye, and then her brother left too. Her mom and Nancy say that he went to a better place. She hopes it's really nice there, like the time he took her to the carnival and won her a hat that looks like a monkey. That was really nice, and she still wears the hat.

At first, she asked when Mikey was going to come back from the better place, but that had just made her mom and Nancy cry for some reason. When she asked the other nice lady, the one that had all the Christmas lights that one time, how long her brother would be gone, she'd gotten upset to. The nice lady had gotten down to look her in the eye, and told her that it would be a really long time, but that Mikey wants her to be happy while he's gone.

She still misses him, and she wishes that he was still here to volunteer with her class again, but she doesn't want him to be upset, so she stays as happy as she can. It's not hard when she thinks of all the fun times she and Mikey got to have over the last year, it had been the best year of her life.

First Mikey had started volunteering with her class, which was kind of embarrassing at first because he was in charge of her and her friends, but she soon started to enjoy having him around. He always helped them with their work when they asked, and played games with them until their parents came to pick them up. She and Mike were always the last ones to leave because he brought her home on his bike, but it was always fun to ride around behind her brother and see everything, even if he did make her wear a helmet.

Then he started taking her places, at first just to her friends' houses for playdates, but then to other places too. Whenever she asked, he'd take her to the park to play, or to go get ice cream, or bring her to the carnival when it was in town. When their parents finally let her get her first bike, a bright pink one with purple tassels on the handlebars, Mikey had taught her how to ride it without falling. Then they'd gotten to ride around town together, and she'd always beat him when they raced home from wherever they went.

After he went to the better place, nothing's been the same. Nancy and their mom yell at each other a lot more often, and when they think she isn't looking, they both cry a lot more too.

"Holly, can you go tell Nancy that dinner's ready?" Her mom calls from the kitchen, bringing her back to reality.

She'd started staring at Mikey's picture on the mantle after she finished her homework, the dolls she'd meant to play with sitting on the couch beside her.

"Okay!" She calls back, excitedly bounding up the stairs. Maybe she can get Nancy to read her a bedtime story today.

The door is closed when she gets there, so she knocks on it with her little hands.

"Nancy!" She shouts through the door so her sister can hear her. "Mom says dinner's ready!"

"I'll be down in a second," Her sister responds.

With a happy smile on her face, Holly heads back downstairs to get her dinner. Nancy comes down a few minutes later to find her impatiently waiting to eat.

The three Wheeler women eat in the living room, their dining room table still covered in stacks of papers. Holly is her normal happy, messy self, which makes her sister and mother smile.

"So, girls, I might have some news," Karen announces halfway through the meal, grabbing their attention. "Chief Hopper offered me a secretary position at the police station, and I'm going to interview with him tomorrow."

"Are you going to be a police officer, mommy?" Holly asks, looking at her mother with unabashed admiration.

"No, not a police officer, sweetie," Her mother says. "But if I end up with the job, I'll get to work with all the other police officers."

Holly continues to grin at her mother, which helps the warm feeling in her chest grow. When she turns to her other daughter, however, she can't get a read.

"Nancy, would you mind watching Holly tomorrow morning?" She asks, not knowing if this might start another argument.

"Yeah, sure," Nancy answers, a bit absent mindedly. "Is it okay if Jonathan comes over? We have a history project to work on."

"Of course, Jonathan is always welcome," Karen tells her. "Just remember the rules, no closed door."

Nancy rolls her eyes, stabbing a bite of casserole onto her fork, but doesn't complain. For a while, the only sound is the clink of silverware against the plates, and Holly having fun with her dinner.

Once they're done, Karen puts their plates in the sink, listening as Holly starts to pester her sister with questions.

"Do you want to watch a movie with me?" She asks first.

"Sure," Nancy responds, getting a cheer from her sister. "Which one do you want to watch tonight?"

Karen smiles, going to the fridge to look for something for desert. Aside from a half-empty box of eggos, there only a single tub of ice cream in the freezer. She pulls it out with a sigh, groceries need to be bought.

By the time she rejoins her daughters, Nancy is already putting a tape in the VCR. She hands them each a bowl, a scoop of ice cream each. It's nice to relax with her family every once in a while, it never happens enough anymore.

When the movie finishes, Karen checks the time and sighs, even as Holly continues to giggle and rave about what they just watched.

"Alright Holly, time for bed," She tells her, getting an upset cry and pout in return.

"But I'm not _tired_ yet," The girl complains, stomping her foot.

"Come on, Holly, I'll read you a story," Nancy replies, jumping in before her mother opens her mouth. Almost immediately, Holly starts to cheer instead.

Nancy and her mother exchange a look before Nancy picks her sister up and heads upstairs. They're both glad that Holly is still the same as ever.

It's not difficult to get Holly _into_ bed, not when you know her routine. She has to brush her teeth, then her hair, and only then could she put on her pajamas. And with her pajamas, she has to add the same things every night.

She wears the monkey hat that her brother won for her, no matter how many times her mother or Nancy tell that it'll mess up the hair she just brushed, and she wears a hoodie. Not just any hoodie, however...

She wears _Mike's_ hoodie, from AV club. It was his favorite sweatshirt, and she can't understand why he left it behind, but if he isn't going to use it, she is. It's about ten sizes too big for her, almost reaching the ground, and her arms only going halfway down the sleeves, but she refuses to go to sleep without it. For her, it's like getting a big hug from her big brother all night.

"What story should we read today?" Nancy asks, stepping over to the bookcase after tucking her sister in, oversized sweatshirt and all.

"Can you make one up?" Holly pleads, giving her sister her best puppy dog eyes. "Like Mikey used to do?"

Nancy's jaw tightens when her sister mentions Mike, pursing her lips together so the rush of emotion doesn't pour out. She wants to say no, to help her sister understand that Mike is gone forever and it hurts to talk about him, but she doesn't. Mike gave her a mission, so she smiles.

"There's one that I can tell you," She says, thinking back to the way Mike used to get so interested in all of his fantasy stories. "But it's got a lot of characters, you might get a little lost."

"What kinds of characters?" Holly asks excitedly. "Are they exciting?"

"I think so, it's one of Mike's favorites, but they're pretty complicated," She answers, her smile becoming a small grin. "I don't know if you're ready for it yet."

"Tell me, tell me, tell me," Holly begs, bouncing excitedly in her bed.

"Okay," Nancy relents, sitting down on the side of the bed. "But pay close attention, you don't want to miss anything."

She has Holly's rapt attention, holding the little arms of her monkey hat that come down far past her ears, looking absolutely adorable since her hands are still hidden in the sleeves of the hoodie.

"It all starts with four heroes, best friends, that had just finished another epic adventure," Nancy starts, thinking back to the night that started it all. "They were all going back home, and separated from each other, when suddenly, out of nowhere, a _monster_ attacked one of their party."

She leans in close on the word 'monster', getting another bounce of enthusiasm from Holly.

"The hero was surprised, but he was smart, and he got away before the monster got him. Only the monster didn't give up, he chased the hero, all the way to another world," She continues, her sister's eyes widening. "His friends noticed when he wasn't around the next day, and so they set off to look for him. They searched high and low, anywhere they could possibly find, but their friend had just disappeared from the face of the earth."

"No! They need to find him!" Holly exclaims, trying to grab Nancy's arm. The oversized sleeve just gets in her way. "They can't just leave him!"

"I'm getting there, just be patient. Mike made this story, remember? It's got a lot of things going on," Nancy assures her, tucking her sister's arms back under the sheets. "Now, where was I? Oh, right, our heroes were searching, but their friend was nowhere to be found. They didn't give up, though, even when it started to rain, and wash away any traces their friend left behind."

Holly clutches at the little hands of her hat again, eyes glued on Nancy.

"And as they searched, they found someone. Not their friend, not yet, but someone just as amazing," Nancy says, remembering the one time Mike had been willing to tell her this story.

"Who was it?" Holly questions when the pause drags out.

"It was a beautiful princess, who had just escaped from her tower," Nancy tells her, seeing the girl's eyes light up in delight. "Even though she escaped, she wasn't safe yet, because the dragon that guarded her tower was trying to bring her back. She wasn't just any princess though, she was strong. And as our heroes found out with their own eyes, she could do magic like nothing they'd ever seen. They'd need her help to find their friend, and she'd need their help to stay hidden from the terrible dragon."

And so, she delves into the whole story, with a few minor changes here or there for Holly's sake. The princess and the paladin fall in love, the old soldier helps them in their hour of need, and the heroes rescue their friend from the monster. When the monster is finally vanquished, though, it's the princess who saves the heroes, and so she joins them, already a hero herself.

Holly slowly drifts off to sleep, and Nancy plants a kiss on her head before turning off the light. At least part of Mike will stay with them, always.

XxX

 **Jonathan**

When the memorial breaks up, all Jonathan can feel is empty. He has tears in his eyes, but they're not because of the memorial anymore, he can make his peace with Mike being gone, no matter how much it hurts. What hurts him more is seeing his little brother and his girlfriend fall apart, and not being able to do anything to help them.

That seems to be a theme in his life right now. There was nothing he could do when his parents got a divorce. There was nothing he could do to stop Will from going missing. When they finally found Will, there was nothing he could do to get to him. Even after, he didn't even notice how bad his brother was really getting in the next year. Then there was nothing he could do to stop his brother from getting possessed. There was nothing he could do to save Bob from the lab, and then there was nothing he could do but watch while everyone else got ready to fight the Demodogs in his living room. Even _Mike_ had picked up a candlestick and gotten in line, Jonathan had just stood there.

He couldn't do anything to help Eleven close the gate. He couldn't even do anything to get the monster out of his brother, except turn on some stupid heaters and hope for the best. When Mike ran away, he didn't even think to go after him until Nancy had asked him for his keys. And then there was nothing he could do to help Mike in that year after.

Now he can't even help the people he loves, when they need him the most. He failed Bob a year ago. He failed Mike a month ago. And now he keeps failing Will and Nancy, every minute that he does nothing.

"Is there anything you want to talk about?" He asks, breaking the silence in the car with his brother. Will hasn't said a word out loud, except for whatever he whispered at Mike's grave, for days. All he does now is nod, or shake his head, or sometimes just grunt so he won't have to speak.

Will grunts a negative, staring out the window as he shakes his head. That part hurts a little more than the rest, they used to be so close, and now...

Now Will barely talks to anyone, let alone to Jonathan. He never says more than a few words at a time, even to their mother. His art has changed too, no longer filled with the normal bright colors and creative combinations. Now it's all scenes, each one something that happened between Will and Mike. Sometimes he lets his family see them, if they ask, but most of them he keeps private.

When they get home, Will is out of the car before Jonathan turns off the engine. He runs into the house before his older brother can even get out, though Jonathan rushes after him.

"What's going on?" Mrs. Byers asks when her older son walks through the door. "Will just ran by and locked himself in his room, did something happen?"

Jonathan gets a tight feeling in his chest, or rather a _tighter_ feeling since he's had one for a month now, and it's hard to answer his mother.

"We had a memorial today, for Mike," He says after a few long moments. "Since it's been a month."

"Oh, sweetie," She murmurs, pulling him into a hug.

It's not often that Jonathan Byers gets to act, or even feel, like a child. He has to be responsible, to take care of his mom and his little brother. In his mother's arms, though, he's back to being the sensitive little kid he'd always been, and he cries.

He lets out all the tears he's been holding back, putting everyone else's pain and need ahead of his own, the way he's always felt he had to. He cries for everything that's happened, for everything that's _still_ happening, and for everything that's _going_ to happen until he gets this chance again, if he ever does. He cries for how utterly useless he feels, and how useless he's still going to be when he's done.

When he finally runs out of tears he lets go of his mother, and she gives him a look of pure love and concern. He just smiles at her and nods, and she gets the message from that.

"I should tell you that I invited Hopper over for dinner," She tells him. "But if it's too much right now, I can reschedule."

"It's fine, mom," He assures her quietly, back to responsible mode. "Hopper probably needs it more than we do, we'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" She asks, giving him that same look.

"I'm sure," He says, doing his best to put a more convincing smile on his face. "I'm going to check on Will, call if you need us."

She gives him another quick hug before letting him walk away. They split ways, Joyce going to the kitchen and Jonathan going to his brother's door. He knocks quietly, hearing some faint sound on the other side.

"Will?" He calls through the door, knowing his brother will hear him. "You alright in there buddy?"

He doesn't get a response, and he considers just opening the door and going in, but that wouldn't be fair to Will. Instead he sits down right next to the door, his eyes finding the exact spots where their Demogorgon trap had been set up. He unconsciously thumbs the scar on his palm, from that same night.

"I'll be right here, Will," He says, loud enough that he's sure his brother will hear. "If you need anything."

For all the endless things on his list of what he _can't_ do, there is something important on the short list of things he _can_ do. He can be there, whether Will wants him to be or not. Whether Nancy wants him to be or not. When, if, they decide they want to talk, or cry, or be held, or just don't want to be alone anymore, he'll be there.

He's not going anywhere.

XxX

 **Will**

Nothing feels real anymore with Mike gone.

It's like the entire world has a tint of gray cast over it. The wind feels dull on his skin, as does the rain, even when it should sting or bite. The sounds of the world are muted, like he's wearing bad earplugs. Colors don't seem as bright, even the autumn leaves that he normally loves so much.

Mike had loved the leaves too...

They used to sit on his porch together, just the two of them, and watch the leaves in the wind. Dustin and Lucas never knew, they would have thought it was stupid, but Mike was always happy to do it. It would always be peaceful, sitting side by side, sometimes going to lay in the grass, other times making big piles to jump in. Sometimes one of them would crack a joke, and the other would laugh like it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard, even if it was terrible.

Will would give _anything_ to hear his friend laugh again.

Everyone keeps saying that they _understand_ how he feels. That they feel the same way, because they miss him just as much. _None_ of them could ever understand, though, because they didn't know him the way Will did.

Their friendship was always special, ever since that fateful day on the swings in kindergarten. Mike always understood that Will was shy, and sensitive, and not the most normal person. He didn't try to change him, though, even if he encouraged him, and he never pushed Will into anything he wasn't comfortable with. Saying that they were friends is the understatement of the century. To Will, at least, it was always _more_.

Mike wasn't just his friend, not even just his best friend, or even like his brother. Mike was everything Will needed him to be. He was the first person to make him feel like he was normal, even when none of the other kids would talk to him. He was the first one to praise him for an accomplishment, and the first one to say he'd do better on his next try if he failed. Mike was a blissful constant for him during his parents' divorce, even more than his older brother, who had started working then. Mike was his protector from bullies like Troy, even if it put an even bigger target on Mike's back, or if it got him in trouble with the school or his own parents. Mike was his confidante for the thoughts in his head, and the person he felt most comfortable talking about the bad things with. When Will cried, Mike would be there with tissues, or a hug if he needed it. When Will was cold, Mike tried to make him warm again. When Will was scared, Mike would tell him it was okay, because he would always be watching out for him.

So, when they say they can _understand_ what he's going through, he _knows_ that they can't. Unless they can somehow read minds, they'll never _understand_ how it feels, how a piece of his _soul_ is gone forever. The only thing stopping him from crumbling altogether is the message Mike left him, to keep the party together and having fun.

"Is there anything you want to talk about?" Jonathan asks on the ride home from the memorial.

It barely registers with Will, his mind still spinning from what he'd said. He never thought that he'd ever say those words out loud, even at a whisper. Will offers a grunt, not wanting to be completely rude to his brother, but he can't really do more. These days it hurts to talk, because once the almost-words come out, they turn into cries, and then into sobs.

Even the bullies had started going easy on him lately, probably because he just doesn't react anymore. One of them was going to give him a swirly, but his complete ambivalence had thrown the boy off. On some level, Will was hoping he'd do it. He just might have found a way to drown in the toilet bowl, and then he'd be free of this empty feeling.

Lucas and Max are always stepping in for him, getting into more fights in the last month than he cares to count. Mike would have been proud, he left Will in good hands for that, but Will would always prefer Mike's.

He barely notices the tears forming in his eyes as they drive, blurring the landscape of the town into a gray-tinged blob. When the car stops outside the house he just gets out and runs inside. He races past his mother without a word and slams his door shut, locking it behind him.

Will collapses on his bed, clutching his pillow to his chest and trying to bury his head in it at the same time, curling into a miserable little ball. His body aches all over, but still manages to feel numb and empty at the same time.

When he puts his head down, he hits it on something hard. His journal.

He's been keeping it for a while now, longer than he'd care to admit to anyone, except maybe to Mike. It's not the same as being able to talk to Mike, but it helps just a little bit. Will sits up and wipes his eyes with his sleeve, opening the journal to the latest page and grabbing a pencil.

First, he has to take the picture out, the one from when they won the science fair. It had been one of the happiest days of their lives, and it's one of the only photos Mike has ever been happy to take.

 _November 22_

 _Day 32_

 _Hey Mike,_

 _I don't know if there's any way for you to ever know half of what I've written on these pages about us, but I hope I can share it with you, someday. We had a memorial today, since it's been a month since... well, you know. I miss you so much, it hurts to think about it._

 _I never really got the chance to thank you, for anything that you did. You probably would have said I don't need to thank you, but I have to, if don't at least try I'll fall apart all over again. Ever since that first day of kindergarten, you've been so much more than my best friend. I can't tell you how much you mean to me, none of the words seem right. You were everything I ever needed you to be, and I never even had to ask, somehow you just knew._

 _I won't lie, not to you, it's been hard with you gone. The bullies are still the same as ever, but Lucas and Max have been really helpful. I know you told me not to listen to them, because they're mouthbreathers and all, but I can't help but wonder if they're right, about me being gay at least. I never paid much attention to it before, but now that you're gone, I don't know what to think anymore. It's just been so confusing, and it's like everyone has an opinion about it but me. I know you could help me make sense of it, or at least you'd try._

 _I don't know if I like boys or girls, I don't know if I really like anything anymore. All I'm really sure of is that I'll never feel the same way about anyone else that I did about you. Whether or not I loved you like that, I know that I loved you. I loved you so much more than I could ever understand._

 _I've been trying my best to make sense of it all on my own, I even went to the library. One thing I found was a word, which I thought felt right, if it had a different definition than the one in the book:_

 _Soulmate- a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner._

 _I saw it, and something clicked, but I don't think the definition is right for us. I don't think we were meant to be romantic partners, that's something for you and El, and I'm really happy for you. Saying that we're close friends doesn't seem right either, because you were always more than that. So, I came up with my own definition, and I hope you agree. Sorry if it sounds a little weird, this is just the argument for it I had in my head:_

 _Soulmate- it's like a best friend, but more. It's the one person in the world that knows you better than anyone else, sometimes even you. It's someone who makes you a better person. Actually, they don't make you a better person, you do that yourself, because they inspire you. A soulmate is someone who you carry with you forever. It's the one person who knew you, and accepted you, and believed in you before anyone else did, or when no one else would. And no matter what happens, you'll always love them. Nothing can ever change that._

 _I guess I kind of lied before, so I'm sorry about that, friends don't lie. I can't say I don't know how to tell you what you were to me, because I just wrote it right there. You're my soulmate. I wish I could have figured that out a long time ago, it would have made things so much less confusing. I wish I could have told you all of this in person, but I can't, and I guess that's really the reason why I figured it out._

 _You always seemed so sure that there was a heaven out there, so I think I can believe in it too. I'll meet you there someday, and I can finally be whole again. I hope you and El are happy together, you deserve it more than anyone. Until then, your family let me have that cross necklace you were always wearing, so I'm going to wear it too. I probably won't go so far into the whole religion thing, but it'll be another piece of you I can always have with me._

 _I love you._

A knock at the door jars Will out of his writing trance, only just realizing that he'd been crying the whole time.

"Will?" Jonathan calls through the door. "You alright in there buddy?"

Alright? No, not alright, probably _never_ alright. Not without Mike. A person can't just lose the most important person in their life and be alright.

Instead of answering, Will looks down at the pages he wrote, memories of Mike flurrying through his mind. The day they met in kindergarten, the day they became friends with Lucas, the time Mike told him he should try to get his work in the art show, when they first got their bikes...

"I'll be right here, Will," Jonathan says, his voice carrying into Will's thoughts, but not breaking him out of them. "If you need anything."

When they met Dustin for the first time, their first trip to the arcade, and getting to explore through all of Mirkwood.

Mike holding him when Will told him about his parents' divorce, and the innumerable times he stayed over so Will wouldn't be alone, or when he'd let Will stay over so he wouldn't have to listen to his parents yell at each other again.

His week in the Upside Down, hoping and praying that someone would save him, so he can see Mike again. Waking up in the hospital, seeing his family, and then his friends rushing in, Mike steps ahead of Lucas and Dustin. The hug they'd shared, where Will could finally be sure that everything could be okay again.

Mike staying with him after the Mind Flayer, making sure that he was okay. Even after the Mind Flayer took over, and Will was nothing but a passenger in his own body, Mike kept watching over him. The story Mike had told, about the day they met, giving him enough strength to control his finger.

Mike always getting between him and the bullies, no matter how bad the odds were. Will hated seeing all the bruises and cuts on his most precious person, knowing that they wouldn't be there if he could just be stronger, but also knowing that Mike wouldn't have wanted him to change. Every time Will had to patch him up, or help him hide the injuries from his parents, it felt like someone was twisting a knife into his side.

And then today, at the memorial. The words Will had finally said out loud, the ones he wished he could have said to Mike in person. The confession that Mike _deserved_ to hear, even if he didn't feel the same.

 _You're my soulmate, Mike, and I love you._

One sentence. One impossibly short sentence, that had to convey the universe of emotion inside of Will's body. It only took a few seconds to choke out, before Will started truly bawling his eyes out.

His brother had held him then, and so had Nancy, the way Mike used to. It hadn't dulled the knife in his chest, but it had helped a little, to know that they were there. Even if Mike isn't here to hold him anymore, he still has them.

So, with a last shaky breath, Will dries his eyes on his sleeve, and puts the picture back in his journal. He brings a hand to the cross around his neck, searching for something on the inside. If Mike and Will really are soulmates, there should still be some piece of him left, even if most of it has been ripped away.

It's almost like he can feel a hand on his shoulder, the one he needs to feel more than anything. A warm feeling blossoms in his chest, the first thing that manages to dull the knife. That's when Will is certain. Even if Mike is gone, there will always be a piece of him in Will, no matter how small, the piece Mike gave him that day in kindergarten.

Will puts his journal back under his pillow and gets up. Mike wouldn't want him to wallow in grief forever, he'd want Will to be happy. So, Will opens his door, his brother still sitting right beside it, and sits down next to him.

Jonathan puts an arm around Will's shoulders. Neither of them says anything, they don't need to.

XxX

 **Lucas**

The memorial was hard.

It was hard to get to, it was hard to be at, and it was hard to leave.

Rather than let themselves dip back into their thoughts, Lucas and Max head to the arcade. Something to distract themselves from the weight of the memorial. Neither of them have ever been particularly emotional people, but that doesn't make the death of their friend any easier.

Lucas throws himself into the games, tuning out the rest of the world. It's not until he loses his last life that he hears Max calling to him.

"Earth to stalker," She says right by his ear. "You in there?"

"Yeah, sorry," He mutters, glaring at the machine, and then at his broken finger that screwed up his game.

"You beat your high score," Max comments, and when he looks, he sees that she's right. He beat the four scores in front of him too, by a lot.

"I'd have done better if it weren't for _this_ ," Lucas responds, raising his broken index finger into the air.

"Yeah, but if you didn't have _that_ , Will would be needing new underwear every day," Max reminds him. "And really, aren't wedgies old by now?"

"Regular ones, yes, but atomic wedgies are all the rage with your average mouth-breathing bully," Lucas informs her, getting a light chuckle in response. "I'm sure if I didn't deck Troy when I did he would have tried to run Will up the flagpole by his underwear."

"I'm sure Will appreciates it," She says, to which he sighs. "Even if you did manage to break your finger doing it."

"I don't know how Mike managed to do this so well for so long," He murmurs, his eyes falling to the ground. "It's been a month, and I don't know if I can keep this up. And there's _two_ of us."

"Mike didn't do it alone, stalker," Max corrects, lightly punching him in the arm. "In case you forgot, _we_ were there to help him. That's why he left it to us."

Lucas doesn't say anything. This conversation is bringing up memories he doesn't want to have. He doesn't want to be upset anymore, he doesn't want to have to see the looks of _pity_ from the rest of their classmates, he doesn't want _everyone_ he knows to be walking on eggshells around him like he's going to break.

He wants his best friend back, but he's not going to get that either.

"Hey, stop zoning out on me, stalker," Max says, hitting him in the arm again.

"Sorry," He murmurs again, shaking the thoughts from his head.

"Stop apologizing," She orders. "You apologize when you do something wrong, not when you're upset."

"I'm not upset," He insists, not even convincing himself.

Max rolls her eyes and grabs his wrist.

"Come on," She says, pulling him away, out of the arcade. He doesn't resist.

She drops her skateboard, and he gets on his bike, following her as she leaves. He doesn't ask where they're going, and doesn't question when they stop in the park, by the lake where a river feeds into it.

"Spill it," She says when they're standing by the water.

"What?" He replies, evidently not understanding.

"You're trying to be a macho 'men don't cry' type," She tells him matter of factly, crossing her arms. "Cut the bullshit and let it out. I'm not going to think you're any less of a man because you cry."

"I already told you, I'm not upset," He repeats, crossing his own arms.

"And I know you're lying to me," She retorts. "I think I know you well enough by now to tell, plus you're the worst liar on the planet. Remember what he always used to say? Friends don't lie."

"Don't you start quoting Mike to me," He responds, obviously hurt. "You think I don't remember? I was his friend for most of our lives!"

"Then why don't you act like it!" She shouts. "Instead of pretending that you're not upset at all! If he was your best friend, and I _know_ he was, why can't you just let yourself be upset that he's gone!"

"Because I just can't!" Lucas yells back, scaring some birds nesting in the nearby trees. "Mike left the party me! I'm supposed to take care of everyone now!"

"Bullshit!" Max roars, which actually scares Lucas a bit. "He didn't 'leave the party' to you! He told us to stick together!"

Lucas doesn't respond this time, scrunching his eyes tight.

"You don't have to pretend not to be upset for us," Max tells him quietly, reaching out to touch his arm. "We're in this together, you don't have to take the whole world on alone. We take care of each other, isn't that one of the party rules?"

Lucas stays silent, and it takes a few moments in the darkness, where she can barely see Lucas a foot away from her, for Max to see him shaking. Then she hears the little bursts of air that he can't hold back, so she wraps her arms around him.

"It's okay, Lucas," She murmurs. "I cried too, and we barely knew each other. Nobody will think any less if you cry for your best friend."

Lucas does cry, he cries long and hard, the only sound breaking the night air. He cries even harder than normal, because he knows he hasn't let himself cry enough in the last month. He's fought it down every time, told himself that he doesn't have time to be upset, that Mike wouldn't want him to cry.

That last part is probably still true, but Mike would understand if he did decide to cry. Mike was always the one to understand, to try to bring some order to their lives when everything seemed to spiral out of control. Now that job falls to Lucas, to keep everyone from falling apart.

Maybe, just maybe, he has to fall apart first. He has to let himself hit his low point, and then he'll be ready, because he won't want any of them to go there again. Maybe that's why Mike was so good at it, because he hit his lowest point, more than once.

When he finally feels like he's cried enough, he separates from Max, seeing the tears in her own eyes. He gently wipes them away for her, which makes her smile.

"Thank you," Lucas tells her, pulling her into a real hug.

"Don't go getting all mushy on me," She murmurs half-heartedly, but still hugs him back all the same.

"I wouldn't dream of it," He assures her, kissing the top of her head.

They stand there in silence by the lake for a little while longer, until the chill of the late November night finally gets to them. Max accepts the faster ride home on Lucas' bike, both of them enjoying the added warmth it brings them.

When they reach her house, which is just within Supercom range of Lucas _and_ Dustin, they share another hug.

"Thanks again, for what you said," Lucas tells her, squeezing her extra tight. "And if you ever need anything, we're in range now."

"I know," She murmurs. "I'll be fine, I promise."

XxX

 **Max**

She watches Lucas ride off into the night before turning to face her house. It's late, and she sees Neil's car in the driveway, which means he'll probably be mad that she stayed out so late without telling him.

With a deep breath, she walks up the steps, puts the key in the lock, and steps in out of the cold. As expected, her mother and step-father are both in the living room watching television, and she can hear music coming from Billy's room, muted by the closed door.

"Where have you been?" Neil asks, his tone neutral, if slightly slurred.

"The cemetery," She answers curtly. "We were having a memorial for Mike today."

She doesn't wait for a response, in no mood to deal with any member of their volatile family at the moment. By the time she reaches her room and closes the door, the tears are back all over again.

The tears confuse her more than she cares to admit. She and Mike were anything but close in the past year, sometimes even hostile, and here she is, crying for someone that never wanted her around. Maybe it was the innate faith the other boys had in Mike, or the way Mike was so willing to get into a fight for his friends, but something had convinced her that he wasn't all bad. There was something about him, even in the downward spiral of his last year, that told her not to believe all the venom in his voice.

Then there had been the _incident_ , after she got in a fight with her father about Lucas. Unsurprisingly, her father didn't approve of her choice of boys, and he had to get physical when she refused to change. She'd been so good at hiding it by then, she thought nobody would notice a few extra bruises, especially if they were hidden by her sleeves like normal.

Except _Mike_ had noticed. Mike, who didn't want her around to begin with, who didn't trust her, who only _barely_ tolerated her existence, had somehow seen right through her. He'd confronted her about it, and was annoyingly persistent despite their mutual almost-indifference toward each other. It was only when he threatened to tell the others that she told him about her step-father.

Instead of giving her the spiel of how she should call the police, report her father, talk to a counselor, or any of the dozens of things she expected, he'd just nodded and listened. When she was done he'd done something surprising.

He'd _hugged_ her.

Mike, who basically stopped acknowledging that other females existed aside from El, had _hugged_ her. He'd promised not to tell anyone if she wasn't okay with it, and to call him if she ever needed help. He hadn't changed how he acted around her, which she'd been thankful for because it would have tipped off the others, and their mutual near-indifference continued almost uninterrupted.

Then had come the night when her father had seen Lucas give her a kiss goodbye, only on the cheek, but he'd been furious. Max had to leave through the window before he broke down the door. She hadn't known _where_ to go, it's not like she had any girlfriends to go stay with like in the movies. She couldn't go to Lucas' or he'd find out, she couldn't go to Dustin's for the same reason, and Will's house was way too far away, and she didn't even know how to get there.

That had left Mike's house, just about the last place on earth she wanted to go to aside from her own home. On the bright side, her step-father didn't know where it was, which made it one of the only safe places she could think of.

She'd knocked on the basement door, not wanting to disturb the whole family or have them start asking questions. Luckily for her, Mike had been down there, though she later found out that he was _always_ down there. He hadn't asked for an explanation, he'd just given her some extra blankets to sleep on the couch, and had snuck her some food. Despite his dislike of her, he didn't turn her away.

The part that stuck with her the most, however, was when Billy came by looking for her. She could hear him in the kitchen, smooth talking Mike's mother and asking if she'd come by, and she'd panicked. Mike had told her to shut up and hid her inside the blanket fort, inside _El's_ blanket fort. He'd gone upstairs, pretending to be getting a glass of water, and told them he hadn't seen her. Billy had insisted on taking a quick look around, and her heart had been beating so loud when he came down the stairs she thought he could hear it too.

When Billy asked about the blanket fort, after checking in the bathroom and anywhere else she might have been hiding, Mike had stood his ground, and his words had been what really stuck with her.

" _Only friends get to go in there," He'd said. "Nobody else touches it."_

Billy was a dense asshole most of the time, but even _he_ knew that she and Mike didn't count as friends. She had pictured the scene, Billy staring him down with Mrs. Wheeler watching, and Mike glaring back at him, just for the _thought_ of touching the fort. Billy had been the one to back down, asking for directions to Lucas and Dustin's houses.

Once they heard the roar of his camaro driving away, she'd gotten out, not wanting to overstay her welcome in the fort. Mike still didn't say much, even when she thanked him, only adjusting the blanket inside. The next morning she'd left without a goodbye, though he didn't offer one either. Her father had calmed down by then, giving her a terse warning not to sneak out again. Billy had been pissed though, which gave her a much more visible bruise on her cheek when they were in the car together. That was the day she had to come clean with _all_ of her friends, though she left out the part about Mike hiding her that night.

It still hadn't changed anything else about their relationship, he barely acknowledged that she existed, and she was constantly annoyed by his moodiness. Only now, she knew at least part of it was just an act, that Mike _wanted_ to care, but felt like he'd be betraying El if he did. She'd accepted that, and she knew that they'd probably never get to be friends, even if they both wanted it.

Now they'll _never_ really get to be friends.

Mike had said in his goodbye to her that he wished they could have been friends, that they probably would have if he'd been in a better place. She could only imagine what he would have been like if they'd gotten along, considering what he did for her when they didn't like each other.

Max's train of thought is interrupted when someone starts banging on her door. She groans when she hears her mother's worried pleas on the other side, this isn't going to end well. With her heart beating a mile a minute she opens the door, Neil shoving his way in and grabbing her wrist when she tries to back away.

"You were out with that boy again weren't you?" He demands, getting right in her face where she can smell the alcohol on his breath.

"We were at a memorial!" She responds, her voice rising when his grip gets tighter. "He was Mike's best friend!"

"So he was there?!" Neil exclaims, apparently only hearing that part.

"There were seven of us there!" Max tells him with a grimace of pain.

"Neil, honey, please," Her mother says, trying to calm him down.

"Stay out of this Susan!" Neil shouts before turning back to Max. "I am _sick_ and _tired_ of you and _that boy_ gallivanting around together! I _forbid_ you from seeing him again, and if he tries to come here again, I'll shoot him!"

"You can't _do_ that!" Max shouts back before she can stop herself.

Her step-father's face contorts in rage at her defiance, and his grip tightens even further. Any tighter and it might break her arm altogether.

"I _can't_?" He repeats, getting even closer. "I _can't_?! I will do whatever I damn well please! And you will do what I say, you disrespectful, insolent, little-!"

"Neil!" Susan shouts, trying not to cry.

Neil pauses at the shouts, and then shoves Max backward, knocking her to the ground. Susan almost lets a sigh of relief out, as does Max, until she sees what her father does next.

"You talk to him on _this_ don't you?" He asks, much more quietly, picking up the supercom from her bedside table. _Mike's_ supercom, that he left for her.

Before she can even answer, or cry out, or do anything at all, Neil hurls it at the wall. It breaks into pieces of plastic and metal, cracking the papered drywall. The blood in Max's veins freezes.

Neil storms out of the room, followed by Susan, and Max takes a moment to register it before scrambling over to the shattered walkie talkie. She starts to cry, but not from the pain, she's used to the pain by now. She cries because Neil just destroyed the only piece of Mike that she has. The thing he'd left her in his unofficial will, the thing that made her an official member of the party.

The gift that meant that he finally accepted her as a friend.

With numb fingers she tries to put the pieces back together, but she has no idea how to do it. She may as well be trying to do the world's hardest puzzle blindfolded, she'd probably have better luck.

She can hear the argument escalating in the living room, followed by cries of pain from her mother, but she can't move a muscle. Everything is numb.

For hours it seems, she kneels beside the broken mass of plastic and metal, feeling well and truly alone in the world. She can't even call her friends for help, her only means of doing so sitting before her. The house falls silent around her as her truly volatile family goes to bed, but she still sits there.

She sits there until a wave of emotions wash over her, staring into the mess of wires, buttons, screws, and casing. First is the guilt that Mike's supercom is broken after he entrusted it to her, then the crushing sadness at how disconnected she feels now that she _doesn't_ have it, and finally the anger. The anger at herself, for how helpless she is every time this happens, at her mother, for bringing them into this situation in the first place, and especially at Neil, for making their lives a living hell, making them fear for their safety in their own home, and trying to control them like puppets. The anger that he not only hurt her, he hurt something much more important than her, something she didn't even know she cared about until the memorial today.

He hurt Mike's memory, by destroying his supercom and bad mouthing his friends.

That anger helps her steel her resolve. She's going to end this once and for all, so none of them ever have to be afraid again. With fire in her heart to match her hair, she sneaks into the kitchen, making certain that she makes no sound at all. Neil's snores carry clearly through the house, but she won't take any chances.

She dials the phone, and it's picked up on the first ring.

"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?" The operator asks, a woman.

"I need to report my step-father," She says quietly, her ears perked for any sign that somebody may be listening. "He's a drunk, overbearing, abusive asshole, and I can't take it anymore. What do I need to do?"

"Is your step-father there with you now?" The operator questions calmly.

"He's asleep," She answers. "My mother and step-brother are here too."

"Are you currently in any direct danger?" The operator continues. "Is anyone forcing you to make this call?"

"No, just me," She tells the woman.

"Police are being dispatched to your location," The woman responds. "Can you stay on the line until they arrive?"

"Do I have to?" Max asks, her steel starting to give way to apprehension.

"I strongly suggest it, but no, you're free to hang up whenever you want," The operator explains. "For your own safety, we recommend staying on the line until help arrives."

"Okay," Max murmurs, her stomach starting to flutter. This is all really happening.

"Can you tell me your name?" The woman questions. "Or some of the things you like to do?"

"Oh, well, I'm Max, short for Maxine," She replies nervously. "Maxine Mayfield. I guess I like skateboarding, and I'm pretty good at video games."

"That's fantastic, Max," The operator says, which helps to calm her nerves a bit. "What are some of your favorite games?"

"I'm best at Dig Dug, I have the high score at our arcade," She tells the woman, though she doesn't really know why. What does this have to do with her call?

"The high score? You must be pretty good," The woman praises. "I have a son who's a freshman in high school, and he loves video games too. He's not very good at them though, he can never time hitting the buttons right."

"It just takes practice," Max responds. "I wasn't great at first, but I kept doing it, and now I'm really good at it."

"Practice does make perfect, after all," The woman points out. "That's what I-"

The line cuts out, startling Max into dropping the phone. Standing right beside her, face livid with anger, is Neil. His hand is still on the button to cut off the call.

"Who were you talking to?" He demands quietly.

"Nobody important," She answers quickly, panic rushing through her. "Just a hotline for Dig Dug fans, I'm trying to beat the national score."

From her step-father's expression, he doesn't buy her bullshit excuse. He makes to grab her, but she jumps backward, the phone swinging against the wall, and puts the table between them. Neil starts toward her, and she starts their cat and mouse game around the furniture, keeping just out of his reach.

For a few minutes, it works, until her foot catches on the leg of a chair, and Neil catches her arm when it goes out to correct her balance.

"Who did you call?!" He roars at the top of his lungs.

"Nobody!" Max insists, trying to get out of his grip, to no avail.

"Don't you lie to _me_!" He shouts, raising his other hand and bringing it down across her face. He lets go so she goes sprawling to the ground, a big split on the side of her lip that starts leaking blood.

When Neil starts toward her again she scrambles back on her hands, until she runs straight into the wall. Her step-father grabs a fistful of her hair, knowing better than to leave marks on her neck, dragging her to her feet with a cry of pain.

 _CRASH!_

Neil's grip goes slack in surprise when someone breaks open the front door.

"Hawkins Police!" A familiar voice roars. "Hands above your head!"

The words barely register with Neil before Hopper is on him, spinning him around and pressing him against the wall so he can slap the cuffs on him. To Max, though, they're the words of an angel. An angel that smells like cigarettes and likes to punch its way through problems, but still an angel.

"Powell, take this son of a bitch to the station and book him," Hopper grumbles, ignoring the man's protests. "And read him his rights."

"Can do, Chief," The man responds, he and his partner escorting a struggling, shouting Neil out to their squad car. "You have the right to remain silent..."

As they take care of that, Hopper kneels beside Max.

"Are you okay, kid?" He asks, looking her over with concern. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"I'll be fine," Max tells him, wincing as the movement pulls her split lip. "Some ice would be good, though."

She does note a wet spot on his uniform, but at this point all she wants is to get some ice on her lip before it swells.

"Max?!"

She'd almost forgotten about her mother. When Susan Mayfield comes hurrying into the room, tying a nightgown closed around her waist, she never expects to find the Chief of Police helping her daughter to her feet.

"Hey mom," Max murmurs, trying not to pull her lip more than necessary.

"What happened?" Susan demands, taking stock of the busted door.

"Max here was very brave, she called the police about your husband's abuse," Hopper informs her. "We got here just in time, before he could do anything else."

"Max," Her mother says breathlessly before turning to the chief. "I'm so sorry about this, Chief Hopper. Neil just has these fits sometimes, he can't help it-"

"Stop," Hopper tells her, raising a hand. "We have your husband on assault and battery, and it won't be hard to prove domestic abuse as well. You don't need to defend him, he won't be coming back here, ever again."

The look on Susan's face freezes, and after a few moments she starts to cry. She hugs Max as close as she possibly can, taking her from Hopper's loose hold.

"I'm so sorry, Max," She cries. "This is all my fault. If I never married him, none of this ever would have happened."

"It's okay, mom," Max assures her as she returns the hug. "What happened hasn't been all bad. If we never moved out here, I wouldn't have met my best friends."

Max cracks a small smile. It's only because of one of those friends that she was able to end it all. It's only because of one of those friends that she found the strength to finally do it. It's only because of one of those friends that she can finally say she's going to be okay.

She loves them all, they're her best friends for a reason, but that hadn't been enough to do all of this. She'd have kept going the same way as always, pretending to be okay, silently taking the abuse and thinking there was nothing she could do. It's because one of them showed her that kind of strength first, showed her that even the most broken person can be strong, do what _needs_ to be done, even if every other piece of you says you shouldn't.

Because of Mike.

XxX

 **Dustin**

Failure seems to be Dustin's new word of the day, every day. It's the only one that he can seem to apply to anything that happens anymore. He failed a math test, failed to take out the garbage, failed to remember to feed the new cat again...

Oh, and he failed his best friend.

He failed to notice how bad Mike was really getting. He failed to help one of his most precious people deal with what they were going through. He failed to stop that person from putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger.

He failed, in every possible way.

After everything Mike had done for him, he couldn't even _help_. It's like a sign from the universe that all Dustin will amount to is failure after failure.

"Hey, you spacing out on me again?"

Dustin picks his head up from the window at the question, briefly glancing over at Steve in the driver's seat.

"I think I've earned the right," Dustin mutters dejectedly.

"Hey, don't be like that," Steve says as they turn a corner. "It doesn't suit you."

Dustin just rolls his eyes and puts his head back against the window. Steve sighs and makes another turn, into the parking lot of a small diner.

"What are we doing here?" Dustin asks, looking at the big sign out front.

"I'm not bringing you home so you can sit around and be mopey all night," Steve informs him. "Now get out and start thinking about what you want to eat."

With that Steve turns the car off and gets out, impatiently waiting as Dustin lags behind. The older boy almost has to drag his protege out of the car and into the diner, sitting them down in one of the booths.

"I'm not hungry," Dustin murmurs, putting his arms on the table and leaning his head down on them.

"Well, I know _that's_ a lie," Steve observes. "You're always hungry, Dustin."

Dustin just groans in response, to which Steve rolls his eyes and catches a waiter's eye across the room.

"You better find that appetite soon, the waiter's coming," Steve warns, only to get another groan.

Steve rolls his eyes again, and then smiles at the waiter when he gets to them.

"What can we do you for tonight?" The man asks with a smile of his own.

"We'll take two burgers, medium, with the works, full deal, and fries," Steve tells him. "Plus two milkshakes, one chocolate, one vanilla."

"Sounds great," The man says, writing it all down as Steve says it. "Should only be a few minutes, we're not too busy yet."

"Thanks," Steve replies as the man turns to leave.

Dustin still hasn't moved, or spoken, or given any indication that he's still alive. Steve reaches over and steals the hat off of his head.

"Hey!" Dustin exclaims, trying to snatch it back. "Give me my hat!"

"I'll give it back, don't worry," Steve assures him, setting it on the booth next to him. "But first, you're going to talk to me."

"Fine, your hair looks good today," Dustin snaps back. "Nice weather we're having lately, car's looking great, now give me my hat."

"Nuh uh," Steve tells the irritated teenager. "That's not what I meant, and you know it. You've been acting weird since we left, so talk to me."

"All I said was that I'm not hungry," Dustin retorts. "Stop being such an asshole and give me back my hat."

"Dustin," Steve says pointedly, holding up a finger. "I won't ask again."

"About what? That I've been weird since we left?" Dustin says venomously. "Sorry for being upset at my best friend's memorial, I didn't realize that was a bad thing."

"It's not a bad thing, I would expect nothing less from you," Steve informs him. "But this is more than you being upset. You feel guilty, like it was your fault or something, and _that_ is a very bad thing."

"Oh, so you can read minds now?" Dustin asks sarcastically. "I didn't know you turned into Eleven all of a sudden."

"I'll take that as a yes, then," Steve responds, which makes Dustin press his lips together, adamant not to say anything more. "And as your friend, it's my job to tell you that that's bullshit. It's not your fault, it's not my fault, it's not anyone's fault. If you keep thinking that way, you won't end up in a good place."

"So, you're a psychologist now too?" Dustin retorts with dripping sarcasm, and then remembers that he didn't want to speak.

"No, but this is the same thing that happened with Nancy after Barb died," Steve says, a lot more forcefully than he probably meant to. "I'm not letting another person I care about go through this, not again. It wasn't your fault, and you have _nothing_ to feel guilty about. If you keep this up, it's going to eat at you until it kills you, and I am _not_ letting that happen."

"But I should have _known_!" Dustin exclaims, abandoning his futile efforts at staying quiet. "I should have-"

"What about the rest of your friends? Or his family?" Steve interrupts. "Do you think this was their fault too? Nancy? Will? Lucas? What about them?"

"Of course not-"

"Then it wasn't _your_ fault either," Steve finishes before Dustin has the chance. "We all wish we could have done something, and we all remember times when we probably should have done something now that Mike's gone, but that doesn't make it our fault."

Dustin finally seems to have learned how to be quiet, and his gaze falls from Steve to the table between them.

"What _will_ be our fault, though, is spitting on what Mike wanted for us by blaming ourselves," Steve continues, laying a hand on Dustin's arm. "He said he wanted us to be happy, because he loved us. Do you think Mike would really blame you for anything? That he'd _want_ you to feel guilty?"

Dustin shakes his head, and then wipes his eyes. Steve squeezes his arm, gingerly putting Dustin's hat back in place.

"I never got to thank him," Dustin murmurs.

"You don't need to thank someone for being your friend," Steve responds. "Especially not one like Mike, he'd never stand for it."

Dustin manages a light chuckle.

"That's not what I mean," He says, wiping his eyes again and looking up at his older friend. "I never thanked him for something he did for me, during that week when Will was missing..."

He trails off to wipe his eyes yet again, and Steve hands him a napkin.

"What did he do?" Steve asks once Dustin puts the napkin down.

"I haven't told this to anyone, not even to Lucas and Will. It was at the quarry, after Troy and James chased us there," Dustin starts after taking a deep breath, squeezing his hands together. "Troy was mad that El made him piss his pants in front of the whole school. They cornered us on the road, then Troy got me, and he pulled a knife."

Steve's eyes go wide in concern when Dustin mentions the knife, and he has to press his lips together to not interrupt.

"He said that if Mike didn't wet himself, he'd cut my teeth out," Dustin continues, staring intently at his hands. "He told Mike to jump off the cliff."

By now, Steve has figured out where this story is going, but he can't say anything now. Dustin needs to tell this to someone, especially now.

"And Mike did it," Dustin says, his voice breaking at the last word. "I tried to tell him not to, I'll get new teeth eventually, but he wouldn't listen. He jumped, and he would have died then, but El saved him. Everything started spiraling out of control after that, so I never got to thank him, and now..."

Now he never will.

Neither of the boys talk for almost a whole minute, Dustin trying not to start crying, Steve trying to think of something to say. He can think of a few things, but none of them really seem helpful in this situation.

"He knew," Steve says after that minute is up. "Trust me, he knew."

"How can you be so sure?" Dustin asks, wiping at his eyes with the napkin again.

"He was your friend, wasn't he?" Steve questions back, to which Dustin slowly nods. "Then he knew, no doubt about it. Friends never _have_ to thank each other, that part is implied. He may never have talked about it, but he knew how grateful you were, and I'm sure he would have done it again if he had to."

That finally gets Dustin to crack a smile, just in time for their food to arrive.

"We've got two burgers, medium, with fries," The waiter tells them enthusiastically, setting a big tray down and unloading the plates and cups. "And two shakes to go with them."

"Thanks," Steve replies, slipping the guy a bill across the table with a nod.

"If you need anything else," The man says, giving them a big grin as he turns away.

"This conversation has been an emotional rollercoaster," Dustin mutters, picking up his burger with both hands, a true monstrosity of food. Not only is it a large burger to begin with, it's piled high with every conceivable item a diner might have. It has every condiment dressing, lettuce, tomato, onion, pickles, onion ring, and two kinds of cheese. "I need to get my energy back."

"So _now_ you're hungry?" Steve asks as Dustin takes a massive bite.

Dustin says something in response, but his mouth is so full of food that it's completely incomprehensible. Steve just rolls his eyes and starts on his own food, dipping his fries in his vanilla shake.

XxX

 **Steve**

"Remember what we talked about," He says as Dustin gets out of the car. "And call me if you need to talk."

"Yeah, I get it _mom_ ," Dustin responds. "Night."

"Night," Steve replies before Dustin shuts the door. He waits until the boy gets inside before reversing out of the driveway.

For all his pep talks and assurances at the diner, there's still something nagging at the back of Steve's mind. He knows better than to think that it will go away on its own, so he goes to the one place where he can get rid of it.

He goes back to the cemetery.

The wind still gusts around him as he stands in front of the grave, silently impressed that the flowers haven't blown away.

"Hey Mike," He murmurs when he gets there.

The two of them had never been particularly close, and if hadn't been for all the business with the Upside Down, they probably never would have talked to each other. Steve would have been Nancy's popular boyfriend, and eventually probably her ex-boyfriend given Steve's history, and Mike would have been her nerdy younger brother, the type Steve was more likely to trip in the hallway than talk to.

Still, Mike had included him in his final message, so that means something. He'd thanked Steve for keeping them safe on their mission, which had sent Steve's mind right back to those tunnels and Mike's stupidly heroic plan.

"You really were something, Mike," He says, staring up to the sky. "You had to be, the way everyone's been since you left. I never really got to know you that well, so I can't pretend I feel the same, but you were one hell of kid. That plan to burn the tunnels, all to try to protect Eleven, was really stupid, but really brave too. I guess I can understand that, it's pretty much the same thing I've been doing every time we deal with the Upside down."

He stops to laugh for a second, and then doubles it thinking of how crazy he must look. Standing in a cemetery in the dark, talking to a headstone.

"I always just kind of walked into it, without meaning to. Looking back, I probably should have questioned our sanity more, but I guess we did okay. I made myself useful at least," He continues, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Not like you, though. You were always right at the center of it, from the moment you let a strange girl live in your basement. That's another thing we never talked about, but I guess it can wait for now. Right now, there's a different talk we need to have."

Steve stops again. Does he really have the right to this conversation? Maybe not, but nobody else is going to, and it needs to be done.

"You're also a jerk, Mike," Steve says, the words coming out flat and hollow. "Everyone keeps talking about how amazing you were, how you cared about everyone so much, how you were the greatest person on the goddamn planet. I'm not going to argue with them, but what the hell, Mike?"

He bites the inside of his cheek, stopping himself from saying even harsher words.

"If you were as caring and considerate as everyone says you were, then why? If you had all these people around you, the ones you cared for so much, why would you put a bullet in your head?" He asks, finally getting straight to the itch in his mind. "They depended on you, for so much, but Nancy keeps crying herself to sleep because she 'failed' you? She said you thought nobody needed you, so I call _bullshit_ somewhere in this. Are they all lying about you? About how great you were? Or were you just making excuses?"

He lets the questions hang in the night air, not stopping the tears that roll down his face. Someone has to ask, and it might as well be Steve Harrington.

"Which one was it, huh Mike?" He repeats quietly, glaring at the headstone in front of him. "I think you can tell which way I'm leaning here."

As if waiting for the stone to respond, Steve falls silent. He stays that way for a long while. The wind continues to blow around him, Steve's tears icy against his cheeks in the chill.

"I don't know what was going on in that head of yours, Mike. I can't even begin to understand," He murmurs after god knows how long. "You lost the love of your life, forever, and I can't even begin to imagine what that's like. It's probably the most painful thing you can ever feel..." He trails off, taking another breath. "That's what everyone else feels like right now. They loved you _so much_ , and how do you repay them? You rip their hearts right out of their chests."

Steve's hands curl into fists in his pockets.

"You're probably thinking, who are you to say all of this? Well, news flash, I'm thinking the same thing," Steve continues, his nails digging into his palms. "But someone has to do it, because you were a grade A douche, and I should know. I'm sure everything made sense in your head, that all of this was inevitable, but it seems like it's my job to tell you otherwise. You could have let them in, Mike, they would have helped you, with anything."

Steve chokes back a sob, determined to finish this.

"I didn't come here to lecture you on right and wrong, or what you _should_ have done, because I don't know," He says, the tension finally leaving his voice. "I came here to make sure you knew, because the rest of them love you too much to say it. You hurt them, and I don't know if they'll ever really get past this."

His only audience is the wind, but it doesn't make this any easier to say.

"I hope you're finally happy, wherever you are now," He murmurs. "I hope you and Eleven are finally together, and I hope you can forgive me for this conversation, if we ever meet again. I still don't know what to believe in all of this, and I doubt I ever will, but I'll promise you one thing. That word still means a lot to you, right?"

He takes a final pause to kneel in front of the headstone, putting a hand out on top of it. Despite the chill, and the wind still biting into him, it feels warm.

"I'll help them out, all of them," He says, tears falling onto the flowers. "I'll do what you used to do, or at least I'll try. I promise, wherever you are right now, if you're anywhere at all, none of us are coming any time soon."

Steve finally lets himself wipe the tears away, getting up at the same time. This conversation sucked from beginning to end, but it had to be done. With a last look at the inscription on the stone, Steve walks away, a new mission in his heart.

XxX

 **Mrs. Byers**

There is no short supply of tragedy for Joyce Byers.

It started small, with her divorce from Lonnie. That was perfectly normal though, just something that happens in life sometimes, she could handle it. She still had her two boys, and her job, so everything would be fine.

Then Will had disappeared without a trace. That had been the first of the things Joyce Byers went through that no parent, no person, should ever have to. She'd been out of her mind with worry and stress, looking for any sign that her boy was still out there. Even when she finally got the sign, she almost couldn't believe it, because it came from the lights. Monsters, psychic children, government conspiracies, and alternate dimensions became normal for her.

It had all ended okay though, for the most part. Will was home, and he was safe. That only lasted so long, until that alternate dimension reared its ugly head again. Then she had to go out of her mind yet again, this time to free her son from a new monster that had possessed him.

She could sell her memoires as fantasy novels, and probably make a fortune.

It had all ended with more tragedy, the loss of a girl they loved, though barely knew. Still, Joyce kept going, because she still had her sons, and they could finally be safe and happy together again. Then Mike had happened...

Ever since then, it's just been a continuous tragedy for Joyce. Will is falling to pieces before her eyes, but won't let her in to help him. Jonathan isn't much better, and she can tell that he's completely overwhelmed. Neither of her boys will open up to her, they barely talk anymore, and it hurts her like a knife.

As she sits at the dining room table, far from enjoying her early day home, she tries to go over the piles of bills waiting to be paid. Some of them are final notice, a few of them are past due, and all of them make the vise around her heart get tighter and tighter. All she can keep telling herself is the advice she'd given to Mrs. Wheeler since her divorce, that she's a smart woman, and she'll get through this.

Balancing her checkbook and filing taxes is still a pretty lost concept on Joyce, at least the way her mind is now, so she tosses the bill in her hand back to the pile. Apparently, she's a month behind on her payments to the repair crew that fixed her wall two years ago. If she didn't know the head of the crew personally, they probably never would have agreed to her payment plan in the first place, and now here she is, screwing it all up.

She grabs a cigarette and heads out to the back yard, glancing into her sons' rooms on the way. On the first drag she starts to feel a little better, the sun getting close to the horizon in the distance. By the time she reaches the end of the stick, all too soon, but she's been trying to cut back, an idea starts to form in her head.

Her bills may be spiraling out of control, and her sons don't want her help with their problems, but Joyce is a smart woman. She's resourceful, and she'll be _damned_ if she just lets everything happen around her. By the time she picks up the phone, she has a familiar resolve, the one she'd had when she finally kicked Lonnie out of the house, or gotten Will back safe and sound.

"Hawkins Police Station, how may I help you?" A familiar voice answers.

"Hi Flo, this is Joyce Byers," She greets. "I'd like to talk to Hopper if he's around."

There's a half snort from the other end, followed by a short chuckle.

"It's been a wasteland here lately," Flo responds. "I've almost been hoping to get a call, just for some variety. We could use another good owl incident."

Joyce laughs a little at the idea, remembering the time an owl had mistaken Eleanor Gillespie's hair for a nest.

"Hold on, I'll put you through," Flo tells her once they both probably have a smile on their faces.

A bad flute solo comes on for a few seconds while Flo transfers the call.

"Hello?" Hopper's voice asks through the phone. Joyce's smile falters a bit, she'd been hoping to hear some of the Hopper she liked to remember, not the 'coffee and contemplation' one she hears now.

"Hey Hop, it's Joyce," She says, not showing her disappointment in her tone. She has a plan, after all. "Long time no talk."

"Yeah, it's been a while," He replies flatly. "Do you need help with something?"

Joyce resists the urge to roll her eyes at his tone.

"I thought I should let you know that you're coming over for dinner today," She informs him. "We're eating at seven, since I'm a little late starting to cook, but don't be late."

"Ha-ha," He responds. "Very funny. Goodbye."

"Hopper, if you hang up that phone I will drive down there and drag you here for dinner," She threatens, feeling quite satisfied when she doesn't hear the sound of the receiver. "I don't care whether you _want_ to come over or not, you're going to come, and I'm not taking no for an answer."

"Joyce, I really don't need this right no-"

"Hopper," She interrupts with an edge to her tone. "You will be here at seven o'clock, and there won't be another word about it. Do I make myself clear?"

The other end of the line is silent for a while, and Joyce starts to wonder in the back of her mind if he just pressed down the button to end the call.

"Fine," Hopper mutters into the phone. "I don't get out until seven, so I'll be there at seven-thirty."

"Seven-fifteen, and not a minute later," Joyce retorts, knowing _exactly_ how long it takes to get to her house from the station.

"Joyce-"

"Seven-fifteen, and not a minute later," She repeats.

Hopper groans on the other end, and lets out a world class sigh.

"Fine, seven-fifteen," He concedes. "Is that it?"

"Yes, that's it," Joyce tells him. "You can go back to working on nothing."

He starts to reply, but Joyce hangs up the phone, a self-satisfied grin on her face. Now all she has to do is get started on dinner, which should take her until Hopper gets here to make.

By the time the sun is almost all the way beneath the horizon she can hear a car getting closer, her boys back from whatever they were doing after school today. Her smile falters when she sees Will start running inside, throwing the door open.

"Will?" She calls after him as he runs to his room, slamming the door shut.

"What's going on?" Mrs. Byers asks when her older son walks through the door. "Will just ran by and locked himself in his room, did something happen?"

She dreads the answer, fearing that yet _another_ tragedy had struck.

"We had a memorial today, for Mike," He answers after a few long moments, the pressure in her chest letting up considerably. "Since it's been a month."

"Oh, sweetie," She murmurs, the relief turning to concern, pulling him into a hug.

For what feels like the first time in ages, Joyce holds her son as he cries, just like she used to when they were younger. It breaks her heart to see them so upset all the time now, refusing to let her in to help them. They've always been sensitive boys, which is normally a true blessing considering who their father is, but now it means that they feel _everything_ so much more than they should.

She holds him for a long time, longer than she cares to keep track of, but not nearly as long as she knows he needs. When he pulls back, she can see the look in his eyes, the one he's had ever since the divorce. Right now, what he's feeling doesn't matter to him, he has people that need his help. Joyce gives him a look, trying to show him all the love and concern she possibly can, to show him that he doesn't always have to be the strong one, but he just nods.

While she may not like it, that's just who her son is, and she has to accept it. He'll take the world on his shoulders to give someone a moment's peace. Suddenly her plan doesn't seem like the best idea, at least right now.

"I should tell you that I invited Hopper over for dinner," She tells him, knowing how he'll react, but still hoping. "But if it's too much right now, I can reschedule."

"It's fine, mom," He assures her quietly, the way he always is, and the vise gets a little tighter. "Hopper probably needs it more than we do, we'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" She asks, giving him that same look, to the same effect.

"I'm sure," He says, doing his best to put a more convincing smile on his face, but she sees right through it. "I'm going to check on Will, call if you need us."

She gives him another quick hug before letting him walk away. They split ways, Joyce going back to the kitchen and Jonathan going to his brother's door. Joyce lets out a big sigh, wishing there was just some switch she could flip and reset the world to before that night when Will went missing.

Trying to distract herself with preparing something for dinner, she still catches the sound of a door opening. It's some small consolation, she presumes, that her sons can open up to each other, if not to her.

For all her insistence on dinner, it's nothing too special. There's some leftover chicken from when the Big Buy had a sale, some of Joyce's famously imperfect mashed potatoes, a small bowl of peas, and a matching one of carrots. She pops some biscuits in the oven and stirs the gravy before glancing at the clock.

7:13

"Boys, time to wash up!" She calls to the rest of the house, which has been uncharacteristically silent. "Dinner's almost ready!"

She waits a few moments, and then she hears the sound of shuffling. At the same time, the sound of a loud engine makes her ears perk up. Hopper's truck is far easier to hear than it should be, so it's the better part of a minute before it comes into view through the window.

Jonathan and Will come into the kitchen together, both with little smiles on their faces. Will's eyes are still red, but he doesn't seem as upset as normal.

"Can you boys set the table?" She requests, hurrying the last few things into order around the kitchen. "For four tonight?"

Will sends a quizzical glance to his brother, who just ruffles Will's hair. Joyce goes out to meet Hopper as he ambles to the door, tossing a cigarette butt onto the ground and grinding it before he climbs the step of the porch.

"So glad you could make it," Joyce greets, getting an eye roll in response.

"What am I doing here, Joyce?" He asks tiredly.

"You're here for dinner," She answers. "Was that not clear?"

"Yeah, I got that part loud and clear," He responds gruffly. "My question is _why_? We haven't spoken since the funeral, and we didn't speak for months before that, so why now?"

"Because we haven't spoken since the funeral," Joyce repeats back to him. "And we didn't speak for months before that."

"Fine, then we can get coffee sometime and catch up," Hopper retorts. "I'm not a fan of dinner parties."

"This isn't a dinner party, Hop, and you're not getting out of it," She tells him, in her well-developed mom-tone that will stand no argument. "Now, come inside."

Hopper grumbles something under his breath, but steps past Joyce into the house, taking off his hat. He shrugs off his coat and hangs both items on a hook as Joyce closes the door.

"Now go wash up," Joyce orders, gently pushing Hopper toward the bathroom.

He grumbles again, but doesn't argue. Joyce goes back to the kitchen, where her two sons are waiting at the dinner table. She starts to move everything from the counter over to the table, letting the boys sort out where it should sit.

"Is something burning?" Hopper asks when he comes back.

"The biscuits!" Joyce exclaims, quickly turning off the oven and grabbing an oven mitt. She takes the little mounds of bread out, now lightly charred, and sighs.

"I'm sure they're still fine, mom," Jonathan assures her. "They just need some butter to soften them up."

With another sigh Joyce scrapes them onto a plate, trying to knock off the worst of the burnt bits with her spatula. Hopper offers to take the plate, but she waves him away. They both sit down at the table, on opposite ends.

"Well, dig in everyone, it won't get any better just sitting there," Joyce tells them, reaching out to take some of the chicken.

Will and Jonathan both snigger a little at the comment, but start to take things themselves. True to his word, Jonathan takes a biscuit, slathering butter on top and on the inside to soften it up. Will doesn't take much, just a small spoonful of everything, but he has a small smile as well.

Hopper patiently waits his turn, watching the Byers family dynamic. They seem exactly how he pictured, a little strange, but otherwise happy together. Unbeknownst to him, Joyce has an eye trained on him, watching ever so carefully.

"So, Jonathan, did you hear back about the showcase yet?" Joyce asks about halfway through the meal, when the conversation has died down a little.

"Mr. Simmons said he might have space for a few pictures," Jonathan answers, keeping his eyes on his mashed potatoes.

"That's amazing! You've wanted to get into this showcase for years!" Joyce exclaims when he tries to downplay it. "Aren't you proud?"

"I am, it's great to finally get a piece in. The photography section is always the smallest, so it's always hard to get in," He responds, giving a side glance to his brother. "Since we're talking about the showcase, I think I should mention that Will has a piece in it too."

"Really?" Their mother asks, looking to her younger son. "Why didn't you tell me you submitted something?"

"I didn't submit anything," Will answers, looking at his older brother.

"I put something in for you," The older boy says. "I could only show him a picture of it, but he said that there would be a place for it if you want."

"That's amazing news, isn't it Will?" Joyce comments, an even bigger smile breaking out on her face.

"What piece did you show him?" Will asks, his focus solely on his brother.

"The portrait," Jonathan tells him, and Will blanches white as a sheet.

Joyce's smile falters a little when her son seems to lose all color.

"What portrait?" She questions, hoping not to startle him.

Will doesn't say anything, and he looks like he might start to cry. His hand goes to the cross around his neck almost unconsciously.

"A portrait of Mike," Jonathan informs her, getting her attention. "It's the best thing I've ever seen him paint."

"It was supposed to be _private_ ," Will interjects, sounding incredibly hurt.

"Will..." Their mom says quietly, reaching out to touch his arm. He shies away from her touch, tears in his eyes again.

Before she can try again he abruptly stands up, his dinner only half finished, and runs out of the room. They all hear his door slam shut again.

"I... I should go apologize," Jonathan murmurs, making to stand up as well.

"Stay here," Hopper responds, getting up first.

"But-" Jonathan starts, until Hopper claps a hand on his shoulder.

"Leave it to me, kid," The Chief says as he walks by, sharing a brief glance with Joyce, picking up on her conflicted emotions.

This isn't how her plan was supposed to go at all...

XxX

 **Hopper**

This is _not_ how his day was supposed to go.

Jim Hopper has a routine, and he sticks to it without fail, every day. He wakes up every day, downs a glass of orange juice, smokes a cigarette, and then downs his pills with a glass of whiskey. Once he gets to work, Flo takes his second cigarette and hands him an apple, he leaves the apple in a pile by the door, and he sits behind his desk until something happens. Sometimes something happens, more often nothing happens, and then he either goes to the bar to drink, or back home to his trailer to drink in private, concluding by him passing out on the couch. Repeat the next day, and every day after, until the day he dies.

Except for _today_. Apparently, the universe just loves to keep throwing wrenches in his life plans, screwing with his carefully crafted routine. Joyce had called out of the blue, after a day of nothing, and _ordered_ him to come over. She'd even threatened to come down and drag him over if he refused.

Naturally, that would be an even greater deviation from his routine, so he had to agree. Show up for dinner, make enough small talk for Joyce to be happy, and then leave to not talk for another eight months.

Which brings him to right _now_. Leaving the kitchen where dinner had been going mostly okay, and heading to Will's room to do...something. Even _he_ doesn't know why he told Jonathan to stay back, that he would handle it himself. He's barely talked to either of them, and that was _months_ ago.

Still, now he's committed to doing this, whatever _this_ may be. For some reason, Will is upset about Jonathan submitting his art to the showcase-thing, so now Hopper has to somehow... make him feel better?

He starts by knocking on the door.

"Go away!" Will shouts through the piece of wood, his voice already hoarse.

"It's me, kid," Hopper starts, biting back a shout of his own. "Open the door."

"I said, go away!" Will repeats, followed by a soft thump against the door, probably from Will throwing his pillow at it.

"You and I both know I'm not leaving until you open the door," Hopper responds.

His words are soon met with the stomping of feet, and then the door opens a few inches. Will starts to slam it closed again, but Hopper manages to wedge his foot between it and the frame before it closes.

"Leave me alone!" Will cries, stomping away from the door again when he can't force it shut. Hopper slowly opens it as Will hides under his comforter.

On the inside, Hopper sighs, because he recognizes what's going on with Will right now. It's the same thing that went on with him after he lost Sara. It's what caused his marriage to fall apart, and what caused his first descent into alcoholism and antidepressant binge.

Maybe he _is_ the right man for this job after all.

"Kid, I'm not here to tell you that everything is going to be okay. That's what your mom and your brother are going to tell you, every day, for the rest of your life," Hopper says, stepping into the room and closing the door most of the way behind him. "I don't know what this whole portrait thing is, but I know that's not _why_ you're upset. You can paint a million portraits of anything you want, any way you want, but they won't replace what you lost. I understand that much, at least."

"Go away," Will tells him again, muffled by the comforter over his head.

"That's not an option for me right now," Hopper responds with a sincerity that surprises him. "If I leave now, your mother is going to read me the riot act about not helping, or I'm going to read it to myself. I've been in the same place that you are now, more than once now actually, and if I don't try to help you then I'll never forgive myself for it."

"Why do you care?" Will mutters.

"Because you're a good kid. You have a long, bright future ahead of you, which is more than I could ever say about myself," Hopper answers, sitting at the end of the bed. "And right now, you're on track to become just like me."

"What's so bad about that?" Will asks, barely audible.

"You're a hell of a lot better than I am, that's why. You've got real friends, ones that care what happens to you, which means you _must_ be better than I am," Hopper informs him. "When I lost my daughter, both daughters, I did exactly what you're doing right now. I shut everyone out, I refused to talk to anyone that cared, and I kept everything bottled up. Both times, I lost every loved one I had, and it was my own fault. It was an insult to their memory, and not a day goes by when I don't wish that I could have them back."

He pauses there for a moment when he feels something roll down his cheek.

"That's what this is about, right?" Hopper asks, looking down at the lump in the comforter. "You don't care about the portrait, you want Mike back."

Will stays silent.

"It's perfectly normal to want them back, when you lose them so suddenly," Hopper continues. "But you can't let that take over your life. I know it all feels terrible, like you can't go on another day without them, but eventually you have to realize that you can. It's what they would have wanted, and it's what you _need_ , or else you'll be on a one-way trip to see them again."

Will still doesn't say anything.

"I know I sound like a hypocrite here, telling you what you should do when I can't even do it myself," Hopper says, finally wiping the tears from his eyes. "But I'll make you a promise. That was their word, wasn't it? Something that you can't break?" He stops for a second, memories coming back him despite his best efforts. "I'll try if you will. One day at a time, the way they would have wanted us to be."

It takes Hopper a few moments to realize that the comforter is shaking, and with a gentle hand he peels it back. Will is sobbing heavily, clutching his journal to his chest. A long-discarded part of Hopper's heart swells with emotion when he sees the boy crying, and it comes almost naturally to bring him into a hug.

"How do you keep going for so long?" Will asks between sobs, crying into Hopper's barrel of a chest and making the man's uniform wet. Hopper doesn't even seem to notice.

"Like I said, one day at a time," He murmurs. "We take it one day at a time, and we remember how much we love them. We keep going because stopping wouldn't be fair to them, after everything they brought into our lives."

Hopper holds back most of his tears for the time being, not all, but most. Right now, Will needs someone strong to hold him, not someone to cry with him.

By the time Will cries himself out, literally passing out in Hopper's arms, the Chief can't be sure how much time has passed. With an ease he thought was long-forgotten, Hopper sets Will down on the bed again, pulling the comforter up over him, and retrieving the boy's pillow for him.

Joyce and Jonathan have cleared the table by the time he gets back to the kitchen. They both turn to him expectantly when he walks in, but he holds up a hand.

"He's fine, for now," He tells them, feeling mostly sure of his answer. "Joyce, we need to have a talk."

"What about-" Jonathan starts, but Hopper holds up his hand again.

"I doubt he'll be waking up any time soon, but it's probably best that he isn't alone when it happens," Hopper explains, giving the boy a pointed look. "Can I trust you with that? Or should I plan to spend the night?"

Jonathan sets a look on his face, probably much stronger than he feels.

"You can count on me," The boy assures him, giving a last look to his mother before leaving.

Once they're alone, Hopper fixes Joyce with a different look.

"Is this why you made me come over?" He asks. "Because of Will?"

"That was part of it," She answers truthfully. "It was also for you, though. You just cut everyone out after _it_ happened, and I'm sick of it. Everyone is falling apart, and I can't fix it all on my own."

"You could have just asked-"

"No! I couldn't have!" Joyce bursts out. "You went back to 'coffee and contemplation', you would have said everyone is better off without you around! Do you really think you would have done _anything_ if I didn't make you come?!"

Hopper can't think of a good response to that question, because he knows that Joyce is right. Those were almost the exact words he'd convinced himself of months ago, just so he wouldn't have to feel guilty about not talking to them.

"All month now, ever since Mike died, _I've_ been trying to help _everyone_ with _everything_ , and I can't keep doing it!" Joyce continues, not done with her tirade. "My family is falling apart, the kids are all trying to pretend everything is okay, and I've been convincing Mike's mother that she can handle being a single mother when I can't handle it myself! So, if you think I'm going to let Mr. Coffee and Contemplation sit on his ass for another goddamned _second_ , you've got another thing coming!"

Joyce pants a little when she finishes.

"Feel better?" Hopper questions, getting a weary nod in response. "Then I guess it's high time to apologize, for not helping, and not talking. I promised Will that I would help him through this, so you'll probably be seeing a lot more of me."

"I guess that's a start," Joyce murmurs. "But don't think you're off the hook just yet. You and I still have a _lot_ to talk about."

"I know, I know," Hopper responds, holding up his hands in defeat. "I promise, I'm turning over a new leaf here. El would never forgive me if she knew how far I let everything slip. On that note, can I borrow your phone?"

Joyce raises an eyebrow at him, looking like she wants to say more, but gestures to the newer phone hanging on the wall. Hopper walks over to it and dials a number he guiltily remembers. El had forced him to find out what it was, and teach it to her, just in case.

It rings for a long time, and Hopper worries a bit that he's missed them.

"Hello?" A polite voice asks from the other end.

"Hi, Karen, this is Jim Hopper," The Chief greets, which makes Joyce's eyes widen.

"Chief Hopper?" Karen repeats, as if she can't believe what she's hearing. She may not, they haven't spoken since the funeral. "How can I help you?"

"I know we haven't spoken for a while now, but I heard that you're looking for a job somewhere in town," He responds, sending a look over to Joyce and enjoying how utterly flabbergasted she looks. "Florence has been asking us to find another secretary to help her down at the station, someone who can take over when she retires in a few years. If you're interested, the job's yours."

The other end of the line goes silent for a while, and Hopper vaguely wonders if he scared her with the offer. Joyce still seems to be processing it though, so Karen might be doing the same

"Karen?" Hopper questions, hoping to prompt her response.

"Yes, sorry, I'm still here," Karen apologizes quickly. "I was just a little surprised by the offer. It's just very sudden."

"I won't ask for your answer now," Hopper assures her. "If you want to come down and talk about it tomorrow, I'll be there all day, and Flo is normally there for the mornings on weekends."

"That would be perfect," Karen tells him. "Thank you so much for the offer."

"You don't need to thank me," Hopper replies. "It's the least I can do."

They exchange a few more pleasantries before hanging up, at which point Joyce is beaming at him.

"Turning over a new leaf my ass," She mutters through her grin.

"I meant what I said," Hopper responds, giving her a solemn look. "If I didn't cut everyone out, I probably could have helped Mike. I'm not making that mistake again, so if I have to personally go to see all of them, I will."

"Don't you start on me too," She tells him with a hard edge to her tone. "If I ever hear you start blaming yourself again I will slap you."

Hopper knows better than to argue, and that she's probably right, but that's not a problem for right now. That's a problem for the next day, and the day after, and every day that comes after that one.

"I should go," He says after a few moments of silence. "Can't be in late tomorrow if I have to give an interview."

"And you'll be back tomorrow night?" Joyce questions.

"Unless he needs something sooner," Hopper answers. "Or if _you_ need anything."

Joyce smiles again, and gives him a hug.

"Thank you," She says along with it. "I've been feeling like I'm drowning in all of this all month, but it suddenly feels possible again, so thank you

"I should be thanking _you_ , Joyce," Hopper retorts. "You broke my routine, that's what I really needed. Once it starts, it's too easy to let it keep going and pretend that it's helping you cope."

"That's what we do, Hop," Joyce tells him. "It's what we've always done, all of us. We help each other, no matter what, even if they don't want to be helped."

Their hug lasts a little longer before Hopper does actually leave. He dons his coat and hat, and gets back in his Blazer, but it doesn't feel the same. As pulls away from the Byers' house, the exhaustion he'd felt for months is gone, as if he'd been carrying the sky on his back, and now he feels truly weightless.

"Hey, Jones, come in," He calls into the radio, to one of the night officers assigned for the weekend.

"Loud and clear, chief," A voice responds quickly. "You sound like you're in a good mood right now."

"Not a good mood, but definitely better," Hopper answers, a small smile on his face. "Anything going on right now? I've got some energy to burn."

"It's like you've got a radar or something, Hop," The man responds. "Powell and Callahan just went out on a call, some kid called to report her father for abuse. I don't think they're going to need backup since there's two of them, but if you want to check it out..."

"Name and address?" Hopper asks, shifting into a work state of mind. Domestic abuse is a sensitive thing to handle. Powell and Callahan may be pretty lax about their jobs, but even they know that.

"Caller was a girl named Maxine Mayfield," Jones reports, which sends a spike of ice into Hopper's veins. That name is too familiar to leave to Powell and Callahan.

"Say that again," Hopper requests, hoping he just heard wrong.

"Maxine Mayfield, operator said she goes by Max in her alert," Jones says again.

"Give me the address," Hopper orders. "And tell them I'm on my way."

As Jones tells him the street and number Hopper turns on the lights and siren, somewhat unnecessary this late at night, but he won't get stopped by anything, not now. He shoots through the streets of Hawkins, coming to a screeching halt outside the house just as Powell and Callahan are getting out of their squad car.

"Something we don't know here chief?" Powell questions as they approach, the two officers drawing their handguns to mirror Hopper.

"Mildly personal," Hopper answers. "I know that her brother's a jackhole, with all the mailboxes he drives through. If she's calling about her dad instead, he must be a hell of a lot worse."

When they hear a cry of pain from inside Hopper loses all pretense of subtlety, especially now that he has probable cause. Now he can do things his way, the _right_ way, the _Hopper_ way.

With as powerful a kick as he's ever mustered, he drives his foot into the wooden door right next to the handle. The old frame doesn't hold, the door practically flying off its hinges.

"Hawkins Police!" He roars, rushing into the room with his gun at the ready. "Hands above your head!"

In front of him he sees Max sliding down the wall, the man in front of her still having his hand outstretched, several strands of hair still falling from his fingers. That's enough to make Hopper even angrier than he already was.

His gun somehow finds its holster as he charges forward, his former high school football career coming back to mind. He practically tackles the man, shoving him against the wall and slapping cuffs on him so quickly at least one of them probably has whiplash.

"Powell, take this son of a bitch to the station and book him," Hopper grumbles, ignoring the man's vehement protests. "And read him his rights."

"Can do, Chief," The man responds, he and Callahan escorting the struggling, shouting man out to their squad car. "You have the right to remain silent..."

As they take care of that, Hopper kneels beside Max.

"Are you okay, kid?" He asks, looking her over with concern. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"I'll be fine," Max tells him, wincing as the movement pulls her split lip. "Some ice would be good, though."

He starts to help her up, hoping to get her in a chair and then get some ice.

"Max?!"

Hopper is back on alert at the shout, but he relaxes again when a woman comes rushing in, obvious bruises on her face and arms. This case is open and shut, all they need are some pictures.

"Hey mom," Max murmurs, trying not to pull her lip more than necessary. She's unsteady on her feet, almost clinging to Hopper like a crutch.

"What happened?" Susan demands, taking stock of the busted door, which Hopper has a very brief flash of guilt about.

"Max here was very brave, she called the police about your husband's abuse," Hopper informs her. "We got here just in time, before he could do anything else."

"Max," Her mother says breathlessly before turning to the chief. "I'm so sorry about this, Chief Hopper. Neil just has these fits sometimes, he can't help it-"

He wants to say he can't believe what he's hearing, but unfortunately, it's relatively common in domestic abuse.

"Stop," Hopper tells her, raising a hand. "We have your husband on assault and battery, and it won't be hard to prove domestic abuse as well. You don't need to defend him, he won't be coming back here, ever again."

The look on Susan's face freezes, and after a few moments she starts to cry. She hugs Max as close as she possibly can, taking her from Hopper's loose hold.

"I'm so sorry, Max," She cries. "This is all my fault. If I never married him, none of this ever would have happened."

"It's okay, mom," Max assures her as she returns the hug. "What happened hasn't been all bad. If we never moved out here, I wouldn't have met my best friends."

It's a heartwarming sight, especially with the words Max says. Hopper makes a silent promise, this time to Max. Nothing is going to hurt her ever again, not like this. Call it paternal protectiveness from a father who lost his children, call it easing his guilty mind at how much suffering he sees as his fault, call it whatever it can be called, it won't change anything.

He'll be _damned_ if these people lead anything but long, healthy, _happy_ lives from now on.

XxX

 **Mike**

By the time I come back to myself, everything just feels numb. I want to feel upset, to feel some kind of pain, the same as all the people I love, but I can't. All I feel is numb, and I can't help it.

A pair of familiar arms wrap around me, pulling me in close, but still, I don't feel it. I don't feel her soft skin against mine, I don't feel her silky curls on my cheek, or the flood of tears pouring down them either.

"It's always hardest the first time," El murmurs in my ear. "But they're all going to be okay. They still have each other."

Normally her words would comfort me, would make me feel safe, and warm, and _complete_ on the inside...but now...

"Steve was right..." I say emptily, incapable of even returning El's hug.

"Steve was angry, and frustrated, and upset," El tells me. "He doesn't blame you any more than the others blame you, he just wishes he could understand, so he can help everyone. Isn't that what you used to do?"

"Still, they wouldn't be like this if I hadn't been so _weak_ and _selfish_ -"

 _SMACK!_

I definitely felt that, my cheek stinging fiercely from El's slap. She has her own tears rolling down her cheeks, gripping the front of my shirt like she can't decide whether to hit me again or ask me to hold her.

"Don't _ever_ talk that way again," She says, her words coming out choked and broken. "I don't let _anyone_ talk about you like that, and that includes _you_."

"El-"

"No!" She shouts, cutting me off again. "You are the smartest, kindest, most caring, and _strongest_ person, ever." She punctuates each adjective with a punch to my chest. "They weren't in _your_ mind, they don't know how everything seemed to _you_. It's easy to say that something was right or wrong, good or bad, after it happens, but that's not when it matters..."

She can't finish her thought, pulling herself against me to cry, and I almost unconsciously wrap my arms around her.

Everyone is falling apart, because of _me_. That's not what I wanted to happen, not after I tried so hard to make sure that at least _they_ could be happy, even if _I_ couldn't manage it. Now all of that is just making everything worse.

When El's hand touches the side of my head I step out of my thoughts for a moment, only for her to press our lips together. Not that I'm complaining, but this doesn't seem like the best time...

Everything fades away around me; my mind being enveloped in El's. It never ceases to amaze me how incredible her mind is, unlike anything I've ever known.

" _Do you want to watch a movie with me?" Holly asks excitedly._

" _Sure," Nancy answers, getting a cheer from her sister. "Which one do you want to watch tonight?"_

 _Mrs. Wheeler smiles, going to the fridge to look for something for desert._

My family, except, not the way I'd just been picturing them. That hadn't been the moment with the gun, or mom's thousand-yard stare.

" _And as they searched, they found someone. Not their friend, not yet, but someone just as amazing," Nancy says, pausing for suspense._

" _Who was it?" Holly questions when the pause drags out._

" _It was a beautiful princess, who had just escaped from her tower," Nancy tells her, seeing the girl's eyes light up in delight. "Even though she escaped, she wasn't safe yet, because the dragon that guarded her tower was trying to bring her back. She wasn't just any princess though, she was strong. And as our heroes found out with their own eyes, she could do magic like nothing they'd ever seen. They'd need her help to find their friend, and she'd need their help to stay hidden from the terrible dragon."_

Nancy telling Holly a story, _our_ story, the one about that first week. She almost looks happy, proud even, to tell it. Holly is still wearing that monkey hat that I won for her, and my AV club hoodie, even though it's ten sizes bigger than her.

" _I'll be right here, Will," Jonathan says, loud enough that he's sure his brother will hear through the closed door. "If you need anything."_

Jonathan, the older brother I never had, yet still did. He'd started our D&D obsession, and always remembered to check how we were doing. At some level, he's the reason I always wanted to keep everyone happy, because he always did that for us.

" _You're my soulmate, Mike, and I love you."_

That single sentence had meant more to me than anything. It crushed me to know that I'm not there when he needs me, and yet, somehow, I can feel him, even here. If I try hard enough, it's almost like I can reach out to touch him, and that makes him feel better.

" _Thank you," Lucas tells Max, pulling her into a real hug._

" _Don't go getting all mushy on me," She murmurs half-heartedly, but still hugs him back all the same._

" _I wouldn't dream of it," He assures her, kissing the top of her head._

Someone had managed to crack Lucas' shell, and so much faster than I had ever been able to. He still has someone, to help him and to understand him, probably better than I ever could.

" _It's okay, mom," Max assures her mother as she returns the hug. "What happened hasn't been all bad. If we never moved out here, I wouldn't have met my best friends."_

Max had done what I always regretted not telling her to do, and somehow, it was because of _me_. I'd seen the supercom smash, and her fruitless attempts to put it back together, how upset she'd been when it happened. Maybe our almost-friendship had meant something after all...

" _He knew," Steve says after that minute of silence is up. "Trust me, he knew."_

" _How can you be so sure?" Dustin asks, wiping at his eyes with the napkin again._

" _He was your friend, wasn't he?" Steve questions back, to which Dustin slowly nods. "Then he knew, no doubt about it. Friends never have to thank each other, that part is implied. He may never have talked about it, but he knew how grateful you were, and I'm sure he would have done it again if he had to."_

 _That finally gets Dustin to crack a smile._

Did Dustin really think he had to thank me? I'd always just assumed that it didn't need to happen, it's not like I only did it for his gratitude. He's one of my best friends, he doesn't need to thank me.

" _I hope you're finally happy, wherever you are now," Steve murmurs. "I hope you and Eleven are finally together, and I hope you can forgive me for this conversation, if we ever meet again. I still don't know what to believe in all of this, and I doubt I ever will, but I'll promise you one thing. That word still means a lot to you, right?" He takes a final pause to kneel in front of the headstone, putting a hand out on top of it._

" _I'll help them out, all of them," He says, tears falling onto the flowers. "I'll do what you used to do, or at least I'll try. I promise, wherever you are right now, if you're anywhere at all, none of us are coming any time soon."_

Steve's words had stung the most, because I don't know if they're true or not. Everything had made so much sense back then, but now, now everything is just a mess, and it's because of me...

Still, he cared enough to be honest with me about it. He'd cried the whole time, and all I wanted to do was help him, but I can't. I guess that's how everyone felt about me, at least when I let it show. Now it's up to them, to help each other now that I can't.

" _That's what we do, Hop," Joyce tells him. "It's what we've always done, all of us. We help each other, no matter what, even if they don't want to be helped."_

I almost laugh a little at those words. They'd been true for everyone but me. I got everyone to let me in, to let me help them even when they didn't want it, but I'd been too good at hiding it for myself.

At least now they know, just because someone _looks_ okay, doesn't mean they are.

" _I know I sound like a hypocrite here, telling you what you should do when I can't even do it myself," Hopper says, finally wiping the tears from his eyes. "But I'll make you a promise. That was their word, wasn't it? Something that you can't break?" He stops for a second, holding Will closer. "I'll try if you will. One day at a time, the way they would have wanted us to be."_

It hurts to see them hurting so much, but that feeling I get from Will tingles again. Somehow, I just know, they'll be alright.

They'll _all_ be alright, together.

El pulls her lips from mine, both of us breathing heavily. Whether that's because we kissed for a long time, or because we kissed mid-cry, I don't really know.

"Do you see?" She asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "They're going to be fine, and we'll see them again, someday."

"Hopefully not someday soon..." I murmur back, pulling her into a new hug.

The feeling I've had is finally disappearing, a new one taking its place. If being with El makes me complete, I don't even know how to describe this one. The surety that our loved ones we left behind will be okay, it's indescribable.

We dry our tears and leave the reflecting pool. As it turns out, only a few hours have passed, not nearly as long as I expected. It felt infinitely longer.

"Don't make the next trip too soon," The desk lady says when she takes the key back. We smile and nod, wanting to move on to the next part of our eternity.

I let El take the lead again as we walk, at least until I realize that we're not going home. We come to a stop on the sidewalk near the edge of the shopping area of town, and I turn to face El.

"Where are we going?" I ask, seeing her innocent expression.

"I thought the movies would be nice after all of that," She says, her voice just as innocent as her face. "Barb recommended one."

"And which one would that be?" I question skeptically. I may be showing signs of my father, but I'd be happy going home to take a nap with El.

"The Goonies," She answers, getting an innocent smile. "She says there's a kid in it that looks just like Bob, at least when he was younger. Bob says they look nothing like him, but even Benny agreed with Barb on this one."

"Oh really?" I comment, not even trying to fight down the smirk from my face when it comes up. "I think we _have_ to see it then, just to make sure."

* * *

Oh my god, that was difficult to write on so many levels. I cranked this out in couple of days(just shy of 24,000 words in here), and last night I stayed up until 4 A.M just to finish it because I said I would try to post it. As it turns out, I have the best beta-reader on the planet, and they got it back to me really fast. We have similar writing styles, and they made some suggestions for minor edits, which I think massively improved the more subtle effects of this chapter. Thank you, Writing Tired!

So, I'm sure a bunch of you are probably hating me for the way I portrayed some characters, but there are a few things I want to make clear. None of the sections paint a definitive picture of what Mike was like, they show what his friends and family remember him as during this incredibly emotional time. People tend to focus on different things in emotionally straining circumstances, so their perspectives on the same things won't always be the way something truly was, it'll be filtered through memories and the thoughts of each character. Each one of them has a different filter on their interactions with Mike(these are just a few of the basics), which alters their perceptions:

Nancy- regrets not doing more and having a closer relationship with Mike, and feels guilty that it was the gun she keeps that killed him.

Mrs. Wheeler- also regrets not being closer with her son, feels guilty about not being more invested in his life.

Holly- loves her older brother, doesn't really understand that Mike is dead.

Jonathan- feels like he always has to be strong for everyone else, his own feelings aren't as important.

Will- was the closest friend Mike had for his entire life(and vice versa). Felt some kind of deeper spiritual connection(i.e. soulmates) with Mike, so losing him is more painful than anything else he's ever experienced.(Note: the definition of soulmate is a slightly edited quote from Dawson's Creek)

Lucas- feels responsible for keeping everyone else safe, so nobody else ends up like Mike

Max- feels conflicted about her relationship with Mike. They were never close enough to be friends, but he helped her the most in her time of need, even if it conflicted with his feelings about getting close(even just as friends) to another girl. He finally accepted her friendship in his will and left her the supercom, which is what gave her the strength to do what she couldn't bring herself to do before(just like Mike accepting her)

Dustin- feels guilty for not noticing how bad Mike was getting after all Mike did for him, even though it couldn't be his fault.(I.e. Mike saved his life, but he couldn't save Mike's life when it came around)

Steve- doesn't know how to feel because he and Mike were never close. Wants to believe that Mike was as amazing as everyone says, but can't figure out why Mike would decide to kill himself. All he wants is for everyone to be happy again.

Mrs. Byers- is trying to get everyone back to a good place(not where they were, but somewhere better than where they are), but can't handle it all on her own. She's trying to do too much all at once, so she can't effectively handle any of it. Wants to get the ball rolling, so she takes the first steps to getting some backup.

Hopper- stuck in a 'coping' routine so he won't feel anything at all. Once the routine breaks, he feels guilty about cutting everyone off, and vows to do whatever he has to so nothing like what happened to Mike happens to anyone else.

Everyone deals with tragedy in their lives in different ways, there is no cut & paste method. These depictions are all based on what I feel the personal perception of each character would be, under the circumstances. I don't presume to know how anyone would react, except for myself, under these circumstances in real life. If you have ever gone through this, or are still trying to get through it, you aren't alone, there are always people you can depend on. If it ever feels too overwhelming, the suicide hotline is available 24/7, don't feel ashamed to call. It takes a strong person to admit they need help when they're in trouble.

National Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255

I'm sorry that this chapter is so sad, especially since I said this would be a fluff story. I have two more chapters planned, both of them filled to the brim with happy fluffy goodness, though I may add a third to the end.

On a completely different note, thank you to everyone who has sent me a story request for my Stranger Things Collection. I've gotten a bunch for Highschool AU scenarios, so I might just write an AU story to fit them all together. New requests are always welcome!

Until next time!


	7. Chapter 7- Favorite Moment

Hello readers!

Sorry it took so long to get this out to you, and double sorry that it's shorter than the other chapters. I've had some personal things to deal with as of late, but I thought I should get this out, so I typed it up real quick last night and sent it to my beta reader for a check-up. I could have made it longer, but I thought it was a good place to end it where I did.

This is no longer the second to last chapter of Somewhere New, it is now the third to last! I am adding another chapter onto the end, which will likely be another long one like the chapter before this one(I think you can guess what the chapter in between will be once your read this one).

Also, as it turns out, this story was nominated for Best AU in the _Stranger Things Levoes_ (or Lero, I'm mildly confused about the name between the account page and the message they sent me), so thank you all for your support! I didn't win, but the story that did win(Everybody Talks by HannahBerrie) is one of my absolute favorites, so I can't be upset. Definitely go give it a read, it's really good!

Now, without further delay...

* * *

A year and a half.

It's been a year and a half since I came to Eternity. A year and a half since El and I were reunited, where nothing can ever tear us apart again, and it's been the greatest year and a half I can ever remember having.

Every morning I wake up to see El right beside me, either sleeping like a peaceful angel or waiting for me to wake up as well. I've managed to expand her breakfast diet beyond _just_ eggos, though they remain a daily staple in our home. We've even managed to work through some of her phobias, though she still doesn't like closing the door all the way.

The mantle of the fireplace is adorned with photos and souvenirs of our many outings and activities. The seashell from our first trip the beach sits front and center, right next to the picture we took at the dance. There's a pinecone from a walk we took through the woods, a picture of El in a flower crown that I made for her on a picnic, a caricature drawing of the two of us in the city, and dozens more besides. Each one is a memory I never want to forget.

My favorite one, however, is the simplest one of them all. It's a picture Barb took of us at one party or another, when El and I had snuck away for a few minutes alone, or least we _thought_ we had. That particular party had been by a lake, and the sun was setting behind us, turning the sky a beautiful mix of orange, pink, and purple. Barb had taken it when we kissed, our silhouettes black and featureless against the light of the sun.

If you didn't know that the picture was of us, it would be pretty hard to tell, which is part of why it's my favorite. It doesn't matter if you know _who_ is in the picture, you can definitely tell _what_ is in the picture. Two people that love each other, as if the whole world could fall apart around them, and they wouldn't even blink.

Maybe it's the way her arms were around my neck to pull me down to her, or maybe how I'd let my hands fall to her waist to pull her closer to me. It might be the way our bodies had fit together like a puzzle, like they were meant to go together. It could even be the way the little space between our necks almost looked like a heart.

Any of those could be the reason that the picture is my favorite, but none of them really are. Each of them is more than true, but they're not why I love it so much. No, it's because of what I decided on at that moment, what I decided to do.

It's taken me weeks to plan exactly how I want to do it, how to make it perfect for her. All the sparse moments with her I'd had to give up just so it can be a surprise will be totally worth it. I'd gotten so nervous about that I started asking the only people I know for advice.

Bob was the first one I talked to, because I felt some other connection to him. It's almost like we're the same, just born generations apart, so he can somehow understand the storm of thoughts in my head better than I can.

"That's a big question to ask, Mike," Bob had said when I told him what I wanted to do. "Are you sure you want to do it so quickly? You have all of eternity."

"I know, but... I _want_ to do it," I responded, my mind still spinning. "I want to show her how much she means to me."

"I'm not your dad, Mike, so you don't really need my approval," Bob told me with a chuckle. "Whatever you decide to do, just make sure she understands what it means beforehand. She's a special girl, and this is a very special moment."

Then I talked to my grandfather, which had been a little awkward.

"Aren't you a little young for that, Mike?" He'd asked. "You're still just kids."

"I know that, but I just can't stop thinking about it now," I replied, turning a little red at the subject. "I just wanted to ask what it was like."

He'd smiled and then winked at me, to which I'd turned red again. Having _any_ relationship conversation with him always gets awkward, but _this_ one especially.

"It's the most magical thing you've ever felt," He explained, almost wistfully. "It never lasts as long as you want it to, but for that short little while, no other feeling can compare."

I'd left Benny for last, hoping I could figure out some way that he wouldn't kill me for the idea of what I wanted to talk to him about. True to his nature, he almost chopped off part of my fingers with a spatula, though he claimed it was an accident. Still, he'd said something similar to Bob; that he wasn't either of our parents and can make our own decisions. He'd winked at me too, though, which meant he didn't disapprove of my plan.

That brought me to buying everything we would need for my plan to work. Everything would need to be perfect, or there's no way I could go through with it. Luckily for me, there's no need for money in Eternity, so when I wasn't sure what to get, I had room to get everything.

Last night I almost asked early, after we finished an unexpectedly romantic movie. I'd felt something building up inside of me, pushing me to get straight to it, but thankfully I hadn't. When I'd turned to El, the question already on my lips, I'd seen her half lidded eyes, and the smile on her face as she rested her head against me. The question evaporated then and there, and all I could do was kiss her forehead.

I'd carried her up to bed, already wearing our pajamas, and pretended that it wasn't still a physical struggle for me to do. I'd filled out a little in the year and a half, but I am still by no means a strong person, whatever my championship belt hanging on the wall may say. When I set her down on the bed and tucked her in, I had to fight down the deep breaths I was taking.

"Love you..." She'd murmured with a sleepy smile.

"I love you too," I'd told her, giving her a last kiss goodnight.

I'd turned the bedside lamp off and left her to fall asleep, going to turn off the television and clean up our eggo plates. It was only a few minutes later, after doing those two things and double checking a few other important things, that I went to bed as well, El already fast asleep.

I'd thankfully woken up before her this morning, scribbling a note and leaving it in my place. It gave me the time that I needed to set everything up downstairs.

The fridge can get incredibly specific about what it puts out sometimes, which is what I'd checked last night. The table is set up for a special occasion, breakfast is ready, and I have exactly what I'm going to need.

Every single one of those thoughts runs through my head when I hear her footsteps on the staircase. Then I see her, wearing flannel pajama pants, an old t-shirt that says Hawkins PD on it, and an oversized flannel shirt. I know for a fact that those are her favorite pajamas of all, like the ones Hopper had given to her, with an addition I'd suggested. Her feet are covered by fuzzy white bunny slippers.

"Morning, El," I greet, trying not to sound nervous as I walk forward to meet her.

"Morning," She mumbles groggily as we hug each other. "Do I smell eggos?"

"Of course you do," I tell her with a grin. "I made eggos, bacon, and eggs."

"Yay!" She exclaims, shaking off her grogginess. "You're the best!"

I try to hold back from saying anything, too scared I might spill my question early. In truth I'd made her an eggo extravaganza, her favorite of all.

El digs in ravenously, but for once I finish my breakfast before she does. I get up to put my plate in the sink, my palms sweating as I go into the living room instead of back to the table. I'd checked this part last night as well.

With a click, the tape starts to play just as I hear El put down her cutlery. The first few chords of Every Breath You Take start to play when I step back into the dining room. El gives me a questioning look, but takes my hand when I hold it out. I gently lead her back to the living room, our song playing around us. With slow movements I put us back in position to dance, just like the first time.

El smiles, adjusting her arms around my neck again as my hands gently rest on her hips. We sway back and forth, slowly turning around each other to the music .

"I love you so much," I murmur, taking in every detail of this moment.

"For all eternity, right?" El says with a giggle, and then leans up to ghost a kiss on my lips, barely letting them brush together.

"Yeah..." I respond, my grin coming back again. "Forever..."

The song doesn't last long, but every single second lasts a perfect eternity of its own. When the last notes fade away, El gives me a real kiss, and then steps back.

"I'm going to change," She tells me, turning to leave, the ears of her bunny slippers bouncing when her feet move.

"Wait!" I exclaim, not wanting the moment to pass me by. My hand delves into my pocket, drawing out the thing I'd spent hours pouring over.

When she turns back around, my mouth turns dry with nerves, but I still manage to sink down to one knee. The tape starts to play the next song, which is the same one because I suck at making mixtapes.

Her eyes go wide when she sees the little box, and she gasps when I open it, revealing a ring. In the end, it's nothing super fancy, because that's not what El likes. It's a plain silver band with two bright diamonds set on top. On the inside, where she can't see yet, I'd had the word 'promise' engraved. My promise to her, to love her with everything I have and everything that I am, now and forever.

"El," I manage to say as her eyes start to tear up. "Will you marry me?"

My question is left unanswered when El tackles me, almost knocking the ring box from my grasp. Her lips crash into mine, and I can feel every ounce of pure, radiant, ecstatic joy in her mind. That feeling is more than enough answer to know, but I can't help myself when we finally separate our lips.

"Is that yes?" I ask with the biggest grin I've ever had.

"Yes, yes!" She cries, almost crushing me with a hug again. "Yes."

When I finally get to slip the ring on her finger, a perfect fit, I know. _This_ is my new favorite moment, for now at least...

* * *

Yes, that just happened.

Mileven is getting married, and it will be fluff to the maximum degree!

Yes, I realize that they're only about sixteen chronologically, but that doesn't matter(to me at least). They have nothing to worry about in Eternity that they might in real life(like getting jobs, buying a home, planning a future, etc...), so they can just be happy together.

I always planned to end this story with them getting married, since they're in a place called Eternity, it seemed fitting that I would include them getting married so they could officially be together forever. I know that it isn't entirely necessary, since they're going to be together forever no matter what, but it's an excuse to write more adorably happy fluff, which I desperately need with what I'm about to do in my other story, Number Games(it's sad to eleventh power).

Since I'm already shamelessly plugging other stories, definitely send me requests for my Stranger Things Collection, which I promise will be updated soon!

Until next time!


	8. Chapter 8- The Wedding

Greeting internetarians!

My apologies that this chapter took so long, I've simply had no time to write, in among a host of other issues. This is what I've been building to, and originally where I planned to end this story. However, I will be adding one more chapter, likely an incredibly long chapter, after this one. I can make no promises that it will come out quickly, but I predict that it will be a relatively substantial amount of time.

Now, I present what we should all be hoping for in the future of Stranger Things, a Mileven wedding!

* * *

"You look stunning," Barb tells her, stepping back from doing El's hair and makeup.

"It'll be a wonder if Mike can even say 'I do' once he sees her," Her soon-to-be grandmother-in-law jokes.

"Thanks, Mrs. Ra-"

"None of that, darling, call me Olivia, we're family," The older woman insists, cutting El off before she can even finish her sentence.

"Thank you, Olivia," El corrects with a smile. She takes a deep breath, and then steps in front of the full body mirror.

Her dress is simple, plain from the waist down, with elegant lace designs from the waist up. The original dress they'd found had been strapless, but that had made El uncomfortable, so it now has straps to hold it up. That being said, they'd also gotten another bit of lace decoration to go over her shoulders to make them blend in a bit more.

"We can't forget this, especially after all the fuss you made about getting it," Barb says, holding up her veil. She and Olivia gently help El sit down so they can fix it in place, El giggling a little at the memory of picking it out.

After she and Mike had announced their engagement, Barb and Olivia had insisted on taking her dress shopping. They'd both been ready to leave after the dress was sorted, but El had all but thrown a tantrum over having a veil. It was always in the movies she liked to watch with Mike, and she wants her moment when the veil gets lifted, and everyone finally sees her.

"There we go, perfect," Olivia announces when they step back, certain that the veil will stay in place. "Now, onto the important part. Do you have your four?"

"My four?" El asks, trying to think just what she could be talking about.

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue," She explains with a smile that only a grandmother can give. "It brings you good luck for your wedding. I'll take that as a no, then."

"My shoes are something old," El suggests, lifting the hem of her dress enough to reveal her old converse. They're the same ones that Mike had given her, and by now it shows. "And the dress is new."

"The dress doesn't count," Barb informs her, reaching for her bag. "But we thought ahead, so all isn't lost. Here it is."

She pulls out a small box and passes it to the bride-to-be. El gasps a little when she sees what's inside, and then looks back at Barb.

"Consider it your something new," The older girl tells her with a smile. "It took a little while to find them, but it looks like it was worth it."

El takes out one of the earrings to look at it closer. It's beautiful, with a pearl in the center, surrounded by a bunch of little diamonds. The best part, however, is that El can actually wear it because it's a clip on. Barb had taken her to the piercing place, but El had almost run screaming when she saw the needle. Needless to say, some of her phobias are more ingrained than others.

"And this can be your something borrowed," Olivia suggests, holding out a hair clip with small metal flowers on it. Each flower has a different color gem at the center, and it takes El's breath away. "I wore this on my wedding day, my mother before me, and my daughter wore it on hers. It only seems right that you wear it today."

"I...I don't know what to say," El murmurs, gingerly taking the clip from her.

"You don't have to say anything, we're going to be family," Olivia responds. "Now, sit down again, we need to change the one in your hair."

Said process takes almost ten minutes to do without ruining the rest of the work they'd put into El's hair.

"Now, we just need the blue," Barb observes, looking over their handiwork.

"Actually, I have something for that," El says, much to their curiosity.

El crosses the room to where her regular clothes had been unceremoniously discarded when this entire process started. She reaches into one of the pockets on her jeans, pulling out the blue hair tie that Hopper had given her. It's one of the few things she hadn't needed to copy when she got here, because she'd been wearing it when...

You know.

She has to stop herself from tearing up when she puts it on, not wanting to ruin the makeup Barb and Olivia had worked so hard on, even if it isn't all that much. It's hard though, because now Hopper can still go down the aisle with her.

XxX

 **Mike**

"Stop fidgeting, Mike, she's not even here yet," Bob teases as we wait at the altar. My grandfather chuckles on Bob's other side, which is even less helpful.

"Everything's going to be fine, Mike," My grandfather assures me. "You barely even have to say anything, that's Richard's job."

"Putting all the pressure on me now, are you John?" The other man at the altar inquires, looking away from double checking that we have everything.

"Just stating the facts, Richard," He replies nonchalantly. "It is your _job_ after all."

"If you'd rather do it yourself, I could always go home and spend time with my wife," The officiant threatens, and I'm pretty sure the blood rushes from my face.

"Stop it you two, you're scaring him," Bob admonishes, though he also does his best not to chuckle.

"Don't worry Mike, Richard here just wants your grandmother to give me an earful about something or other whenever we meet," My grandfather explains.

"John, I think we should leave the bickering for the married couple," Richard responds, and then gestures to the back of the room. "I think they're ready."

As if on cue, music starts to play, the kind they use in every movie and tv show with a wedding. El had insisted we have that kind of wedding, just like the ones in the movies we watch every night. My pulse starts to race as Barb and my grandmother come down the aisle, wearing matching light pink dresses, another of the things El had really wanted.

Then I see her...

Even with the veil covering her face, I can tell she looks... beautiful? Stunning? Gorgeous? The closest anyone can ever get to perfection? None of those even come close to describing her right now.

Benny has the honor of walking her down the aisle, and I don't think I've ever seen him look as happy or as proud as he does right now. When they reach the foot of the altar they stop, and Benny gently lifts the veil from her face. He gives her a hug, whispering something to her, and then gives her a kiss on the forehead before going to his seat.

As El climbs the few steps up to the altar I can't tell if my heart is beating loud enough for everyone to hear, or if it's just stopped beating altogether. She hands her bouquet to Barb and then smiles at me. I'm absolutely certain that I'm grinning like an idiot, but I can't actually feel my face right now. My entire body is both numb and on fire at the same time, and we're not even holding hands.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today for the union of two incredible young souls in the eternal bonds of matrimony," Richard begins, his voice carrying clearly through the room. "If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

A stab of anxiety shoots through me when he says that, and I'm pretty sure Bob sighs a little when I tense up. Thankfully nobody says anything, and Richard just keeps going with the ceremony. I'm not quite sure what's actually in the ceremony since my grandparents did most of the planning for us.

"Please join hands," He requests, sending more worry through me that my palms are going to be sweaty. Still, El and I take each other's hands, and I couldn't be any happier if I tried. "These are the hands of your partner, young and strong and full of love, holding your hands as you promise to love each other today, tomorrow, and forever. These are the hands that will work alongside yours as together you build your future. These are the hands that will hold you and comfort you in grief and uncertainty." El squeezes my hands, I squeeze back, and the memories of the last months together flash through my mind. I'm sure Barb had a hand in writing this speech. "These are the hands that will countless times wipe the tears from your eyes, tears of sorrow and joy. These are the hands that will hold your family as one. These are the hands that will give you strength. And these are the hands that even when wrinkled and aged, will still be reaching for yours, still giving you the same unspoken tenderness with just a touch."

The little twinkle in the corner of El's eyes tells me that she's trying to to tear up, though I can't say I'm any different. All I really want to do is skip to the kiss, but our friends and family put a lot of work into this ceremony, so it seems like we'll have to wait a few minutes. Luckily our ceremony isn't supposed to be too long.

"Marriage is not to be undertaken lightly, or at the whim of a fleeting flame. It signals an eternal commitment to one another, through all stages of life, without reservation," Richard continues eloquently, though I guess this is what his job is all about. "As young as they may be, Michael and El have found such commitment together. This ceremony exists only to make official what they already have, and make it known to all who care for them that they truly share such great commitment to one another."

There's no way my palms aren't sweating right now, and I hate it. El looks like a literal angel, minus the wings, and here I am in a tux I've never worn, with sweaty palms, on our wedding day. Talk about King of the Wastoids.

Still, I don't think I've ever seen El as happy as she is right now, which means that everything is absolutely perfect.

"Do you have the rings?" Richard asks, bringing me back to attention. For a second I can't remember what I did with the rings, until Bob hands them over to Richard. It's almost time for the big moment. "Michael, do you take El to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?"

Alright Mike, just two simple words, don't screw them up. Don't try to say them too fast, you'll bite your tongue. Definitely don't stutter, you'll never live it down. Just say it, it's simple, why are you even thinking about this? Now of all times?

Another stab of panic rushes through me when I realize that I still haven't said anything, and it feels like it's been an eternity since he asked. I squeeze El's hands again to calm my nerves.

"I do," I finally manage to say, probably still too fast, but I manage not to bite my tongue when it comes out.

"And El, do you take Michael to be your wedded husband, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor, and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him so long as you both shall live?" Richard questions.

"I do," She says without even a moment of pause.

I can't help but feel something warm spreading through me when she says it, now that we've _both_ said it. Now everybody knows, nothing will ever keep us apart.

Richard hands us the rings, which means we have to let go of each other long enough to slip them on each other's fingers. I can't remember any greater feeling than seeing the two little gold bands slip down our fingers.

"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," Richard announces.

El doesn't really give me the chance, practically flying toward me so we can finally kiss. It's not like I'm going to complain, though, not now. Right now everything is as perfect as it can possibly be, and I can't remember a time when everything has been just as amazing as this single moment.

Our little crowd starts to cheer, but all of my focus is on this kiss, on this single most spectacular kiss of all time. Everything else is utterly inconsequential to my continued existence, even the air that my lungs start to plead for, except for the person my lips are connected to. The fact that we're kissing in front of every single person we know in Eternity, including a fair number of my ancestors, means absolutely nothing compared to the fact that we're officially married.

We're _married_.

When we finally have to separate to breath, the cheers start up all over again. El has a grin that I'm sure matches mine as I take her hand. Without a single word needed between us, we lead our little wedding party down from the altar and out of the building. Some of the guests throw handfuls of rice, which is apparently a custom. Our journey isn't far, which is good, seeing how Barb and my grandmother had both worn heels, just across the street to the park. A huge pavilion is set up in our honor for the reception.

"So, is it starting to set in?" My grandfather asks, giving me a small nudge once we're inside, the rest of our guests waiting outside.

"John, just let them enjoy their moment," My grandmother chides, though she says it through a big smile. "They still have to make it through the receiving line and the reception. I'm sure by the end it will all have set it."

El and I have about three fleeting moments to hug, our first hug as a married couple, before we have to start the receiving line. It's a mess of thanking people for coming and shaking hands. If my priority now wasn't to go home and spend time with El, with _my wife_ , I might have been a bit intimidated at the prospect of meeting so many of my past family members. I might even have noted that one of them speaks fluent Russian, which would give my father a heart attack at the mere concept.

By the time we get to sit down to 'eat', my hands feel sore. I guess my handshake isn't as firm as I thought, or they just used to crush hands in the past.

It seems like every member of our wedding party, plus Benny as El's 'father', has to make a toast in our honor. Bob's is funny, though I'm pretty sure I'm the only person that understands any of the tech references he makes. Barb's is sweet, with a poem she wrote just for us. My grandparents turn their toast into a song from some old movie, which goes completely over our heads, but it's nice to listen to all the same. Even Benny adds in a few jokes, despite his general theme of how he never thought El would marry someone with so little meat on their bones.

El and I find the time to smile at each other as we take the smallest bites of food imaginable. It's like everything about a wedding is designed so that the couple _can't_ spend any actual time together. Of course, we do have all of eternity, so I guess giving everyone else a few hours isn't the worst trade-off.

By the time we get to the cake cutting, I haven't even gotten to say a single word to El, which she seems just as upset about as we cut the first piece together.

"Your chocolate cake, m'lady," I say, picking the piece up and holding it out to her.

My grandfather had informed me of another wedding tradition, which I've actually been looking forward to. As El takes her first bite, I push the cake forward a little, smushing icing onto her cheeks and nose. She gasps indignantly, and I start to panic that I did something wrong, until she takes the piece from me with a grin.

"And your strawberries, Sir Michael," She responds, turning the piece around to offer me the strawberry sitting on the back. Knowing what's coming, but not one to ruin her fun, I take a bite of my own. El returns the favor, squishing the icing onto my face as everyone starts to clap.

We manage to escape for a few minutes as the rest of the cake is dished out, cleaning most of it from our faces. Unfortunately, that's all we seem to have time for, the sun starting to set around us, our signal to start the latter part of the reception, with mingling and dancing.

El decides to throw the bouquet first, calling all the single women in attendance together, few of them though there are. As it so happens, the nice lady from town hall, the one that had changed my key on my first day, catches it by an inch.

As if by some answer to an unspoken prayer, El and I are granted a few short minutes of time to be together. That time happens to be on the dance floor for our first dance, under the eyes of all of our guests, but that doesn't matter. The chords to 'Every Breath You Take' play through the pavilion, and out into the night with the open roof design, just like during the first festival we went to. El's arms find their way around my neck, and mine find their way to her waist.

Our dance isn't spectacular, neither of us _really_ know how to dance, even now. It's mainly just swaying to the music in a vague circle around each other, nothing like the skills our other guests display.

Still, I wouldn't want it any other way.

* * *

It happened!

Sorry if it seemed a little rushed toward the end, I tried my best to plan out the whole ceremony and reception, but I realized that once the ceremony ended, Mike's focus would be more on how everything keeps him from spending time with El. Instead of painfully detailing out how much he wants to talk to her instead of listen to another toast(funny though they may be), I decided that Mike would probably only be able to tell a bare bones version of the reception, and I didn't really want to go to the trouble of having another P.O.V switch in the chapter.

To restate from the previous chapter, yes, I realize that they're only about sixteen chronologically, but that doesn't matter(to me at least). They have nothing to worry about in Eternity that they might in real life(like getting jobs, buying a home, planning a future, etc...), so they can just be happy together.

Until next time!


	9. Chapter 9- Reunion

Welcome back!

So glad you could join me for the final installment of Somewhere New! There have been many trials and tribulations along the way, mainly the fact that I am terrible at time management and so have not had time to sit down and write for the longest time, nor have I had sufficient motivation to finish this story until I gave myself a very definite deadline. It feels like just yesterday that I started this story, and now we're on the final chapter.

Thank you once again to iAmCC for giving me the idea to write this story at all.

There were a lot of ways this chapter could have gone. I chose to go for a slightly shorter version, mainly because the long version involved a lot of heartbreaking sadness that I don't want to be the thing you leave this story with. The purpose of Somewhere New was to be a silver lining to No More, and I feel like it's done that (aside from chapter 6). Regardless, I left a lot up to the imagination simply because that's what I want it to be. I want you to fill in what you think everything would be like, so I have a short reunion for all the relevant characters, but you can imagine so much further beyond that. All the infinite details that go beyond what can be captured in a word count are what I like most about writing: there are infinite possibilities. Unfortunately, in most circumstances, only one can make the page, so I'm leaving this partly open-ended. Imagine new adventures and experiences for everyone in Eternity, because while this is the end of Somewhere New, their stories are only just beginning.

And now, the (too) long awaited final chapter...

* * *

 **Ted**

"Are you sure you really want to be here?" El asks for the tenth time since we got to the arrival terminal.

"It's been a long time, El," I tell her, looking down at the sign in my hands, the name Ted Wheeler written in big letters. One of the last encounters my father and I had plays through my mind again, the time he slapped me. Whether she says anything or not, I know that's what El is thinking about too. "He wasn't a great dad, he wasn't even a good one, but I can't stay mad at him forever."

"If you're sure..." She murmurs, taking one of my hands from the sign to hold.

We stand in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, until the doors to the terminal open and the familiar sound of a jingling purse comes toward us.

"Sorry we're late, Roger couldn't find his other shoe," My grandmother, on my father's side, says once she reaches us. My grandfather is a little ways behind her, silently shaking his head.

"What Joanna means to say is that she was doing her hair and lost track of time," He corrects, getting a light swat from his wife when they stop.

"Oh stop it, Roger, none of that today," She replies, brushing it off so she can start a new conversation. "How are the little ones doing?"

El and I hold back some combination of a shudder and a chuckle. Our house looks more like a zoo these past few years, with two dogs and three children running around. My grandparents on my mother's side are watching them for us while we're here, probably spoiling them worse than we do.

It had been quite an experience to adopt children in Eternity, and an incredibly sad one at that. Still, now we have three little bundles of joy running around the house, drawing on the walls, and generally causing mayhem.

The first one had been Alexa, the sweetest little baby girl who had peach fuzz blonde hair and the greenest eyes we'd ever seen. Now she's six and wants to draw on anything and everything she can get her hands on, even the dogs.

The second one was Noah, about two at the time, and painfully shy in the most adorable way. He and El had hit it off almost immediately, and it helped that Noah's hair is just as curly, and his eyes just as brown as her's. He's five, with an addiction to chocolate milk and space-related anything.

Just a few weeks ago we'd adopted our third child, a little girl named Lucy with bright red hair just like Max's, and the brightest blue eyes in the world. She's still just a tiny little baby, but she has lungs big enough for ten. It took a little while for El to get that babies can't eat eggos yet, and for us to figure out that Lucy exclusively switches between pumpkin banana and blueberry buckle baby food.

"They're doing fine," El answers while I'm lost in thought.

"That's good, they're such a lovely bunch," Joanna responds, digging through her purse for something or other. In this life or the first, she always seems to have an infinite number of things hidden in that bag.

When the doors on the other side of the terminal open, we all fall silent. There's a small crowd that come through the sliding doors, looking around curiously. It's hard to believe that it's been almost twenty years since I walked through those doors with the same expression on my face.

My eyes land on a single man, toward the back of the crowd. He's only a little over sixty years old, but dad's side of the family has been prone to blood clots for years. Grandpa Roger thought that it would probably be a blood clot that brought my dad to Eternity to join us.

The man himself gets a questioning look when he sees me holding a sign with his name on it. I can't really blame him, though, the last time he saw me was when I was when I was fourteen. Now I'm a grown man, I've filled out into my body, my hair is somewhat under control...

And I'm happy. My wife, the single most amazing person in the universe, is standing next to me. There are three little bundles of energy waiting for us back home, five if you count the dogs too. I have everything I could ever want, which is pretty much the exact opposite of when I was alive.

He ambles over to us slowly, exactly the way I remember him walking around the house. The lines in his face are much more pronounced, as are the dark circles under his eyes. His eyes light up a bit when he recognizes his own mother and father, albeit much younger than the last time they saw each other.

"Mom? Dad?" He murmurs as they step toward him. Each one gives him a short hug before stepping back.

"There's so much to tell you, Teddy, but it can wait a little bit longer," Joanna tells him, laying a gently hand on his arm. "Someone important needs to talk to you."

I ready myself for when his gaze turns to me, and to El as well. Confusion is written all over his face for a few seconds, but I can see the moment when it all turns into crystal clarity.

"Mike..." He whispers, as if he can't believe his eyes.

"Hi, dad," I respond, confirming it for him.

El squeezes my hand one last time before she leaves with my grandparents, going to find a nice cafe to wait in while we talk. I'm not even sure where to begin with this conversation, though, which makes it quickly turn into a prolonged silence.

"Mike, I'm..." He starts, the corners of his eyes starting to glisten. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

It's a little painful to watch my father start to cry, so I do the one thing I know always helps. I give him a hug.

He stiffens when my arms touch him, though I can't really blame him. He's already been blaming himself for almost twenty years.

"I'm not angry, dad," I tell him, trying not to let myself choke up. "This place, everything that came after... it's been the most amazing experience I've ever had. I might have come here a little earlier than I was supposed to, but that hasn't changed it all that much."

"But-"

"Dad, really, you've beat yourself up about this enough," I insist, hugging him a little tighter. I vaguely remember when I was little, when he would put me and Nancy on his shoulders and run around. He'd held onto us so tightly back then. "We don't hold grudges here in Eternity, we learn to accept and move past. I accepted everything a long time ago, and everything's been perfect since then. Now it's your turn."

I'm not quite sure what I'm hoping will happen after I give him the speech. It's pretty similar to what everyone had told me when I arrived here, and I'd taken it pretty well, but I'd also been more focused on seeing El again than anything else.

When his arms move to hug me back I know that he understood the important parts. The details will come with time, but he knows, he _finally_ knows...

Everything can finally be okay again.

XxX

 **Hopper**

"I always knew it would be those damn cigarettes that kill him," El murmurs, fingering the sign in her hands, her eyes fixed on the big black letters, surrounded by the colorful shapes and designs from our children.

"Don't count out the alcohol," I remind her with a small nudge. "Or the times he abused his meds, or the fact that he lived in almost constant stress for a long time, or that he was Chief of Police-"

"Is there a point to this list, or are you just trying to make me sad?" She interrupts, giving me a look I know very well by now.

"What I'm _trying_ to say, despite my mouth's best efforts," I reply, stepping a little closer to put my arms around her. "Is that it took a lot to send Hopper here, and that he's probably the strongest man we could have ever known."

El's lips turn into an even more familiar smirk.

"I don't know, I think you can give him a run for his money now," She says, squeezing one of my biceps. "I don't think _he_ has a champion's belt hanging on the wall in _his_ bedroom."

"If you didn't insist on displaying it for the rest of forever, _I_ wouldn't either," I retort, only to be silenced when she leans up to kiss me.

After over thirty years together, it still works just as well as the first time. I pray that it never stops working, either, or else I'll have to have myself committed.

"Ewwww," A little voice complains from behind El. The two of us smile as our kiss ends, both of us turning to look at Lucy, our nine year old little fireball. She has a stuffed bunny in one hand and a bag of cheerios in the other. "That's gross."

"That's not very nice to say, Lucy," El tells her, though she's still smiling. "Daddy and I are married, we can kiss whenever we want."

"It's still gross," Lucy responds. "I'm _never_ going to kiss _anyone_."

"Is that so?" I ask, sharing a mischievous glance with my wife.

El's powers keep Lucy stuck in place so I can grab her, hoisting her up despite her trying to push me away with her stuffed bunny.

"No, daddy, stop!" She cries, trying to keep the bunny between us. It's almost convincing, until she starts giggling.

Her efforts are in vain when I break through her floppy-eared defenses, peppering her face with the biggest, most embarrassing kisses I possibly can. El doesn't come to our daughter's aid, too busy laughing her ass off.

"Dad, you're making a scene," Our other daughter hisses, coming up beside me. Alexa has never been one for the spotlight, despite our encouragement.

"Leave them be, Alexa, it's a parent's rite of passage," A newly familiar voice chimes in. We'd only met Hopper's parents and grandparents a few weeks ago, but they fit in perfectly. They'd been off with our son getting something to eat, though I don't see Noah among them.

His grandfather, the one who had just spoken, had been especially curious about how well his cabin was faring after his passing. He'd been delighted to know that it had become like home for El.

"Are you embarrassed of us now, Alexa?" I question, ending my attack.

"Have been for a long time, dad," She retorts quietly.

"She doesn't mean that dad, you guys are the best!" Noah interjects, jumping out from behind Hopper's parents to scare his sister. It works, just like every time, and Alexa screams, jumping away from him.

"Noah, you asshole!" She screams back at him, starting toward him once the shock goes away. She freezes mid step, as does Noah when he tries to back away from his sister.

"Alexa, no killing your brother," El tells them, giving each of them a pointed look. "And Noah, what did we tell you about scaring your sisters?"

"Only on Halloween..." Noah murmurs, his eyes dropping to the floor.

"And is it Halloween?" El follows up, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No..." He replies, still looking down.

"So that means you should...?" She asks, waiting for the answer she wants.

"Sorry Alexa," He sighs, but El isn't so easily appeased.

"What was that? I couldn't quite hear you," She says, cupping her hand next to her ear. Noah sighs, getting the message and looking at his sister.

"Sorry Alexa," He apologizes.

"Alexa?" El continues, giving our daughter a pointed look.

"Fine, apology accepted," She says, though she still looks like she might be plotting revenge on her brother.

They both stumble a little when El lets them go, and proceed to stand on opposite sides of our welcoming party. She and I exchange another look, and a smile.

"Daddy, can you put me down now?" Lucy asks, trying to squirm out of my hold.

"I don't know, are you gonna give me a kiss?" I respond with a smirk.

"No! Kissing is gross!" She insists, leaning as far away from me as she can.

"Here, Lucy, I'll do it for you," El tell her, planting a big kiss on my cheek. Lucy fake gags until I set her down. She looks around for a few seconds, and then her eyes light up when the outer terminal doors open again.

"Aunt Sara!" She exclaims, rushing toward the woman who just entered.

We'd met Sara a few years ago, mostly by accident. She'd been looking for us, across dozens and dozens of other districts, and she just so happened to be checking in at our town hall when we were going on our monthly visit to the reflecting pool. From there, we became almost instant friends, especially since she had kept a pretty close eye on our escapades that first year, and how El and Hopper had bonded over the second.

She comes by for dinner at least once a week now, usually more because our three little monsters demand it of her. When we got the message about Hopper's impending arrival we'd called her first, and she said she'd meet us there.

I notice something in her hands as she hugs Lucy. It's a book, and while I can't see the title, I can guess that it's Anne of Green Gables. That had been Hopper's go-to book, for Sara and for El.

Noah and Alexa get to her next, joining in on the hug and almost knocking Sara over. El and I share a glance, and stifle a laugh. We haven't done it for years now, but somehow ours kids have picked up our greeting habits.

When Sara finally extricates herself from the children's grasp she comes over to us, giving her grandparents a slew of hugs. By the time it's our turn all she can stand for is a quick embrace before she starts nervously turning the book over and over in her hands.

"It's been forty years since I last saw him," She murmurs nervously. "What if he doesn't recognize me?"

"He'll know," El assures her, taking one of the nervous woman's hands. "He had his faults, more than his fair share, but he always came through when it counted."

"Think about it this way," I add, hoping to lighten the mood. "You don't have to explain to him how you went and married his daughter without his blessing."

It's dumb, but it gets her to chuckle a little, which is good because the inner doors open just after that. She and El both tense up at the sound, their eyes fixed on the unblocked doorway.

A small crowd makes its way into the terminal, one of the dozens and dozens that sprawl through this building. Most of them are nondescript elderly men and women, some with odd fashion choices, some wearing suits...

And one wearing a Hawkins P.D t-shirt, old and faded, but unmistakable. The man wearing it is still incredibly large, and he has the same aura of authority, but his age definitely shows. We'll have to explain to him how changing your appearance works here. It's quite fascinating really, but this isn't the time to bring it up with him.

He looks around the terminal as he walks, glancing down at the packet in his hands, and then back up. That's when he sees us.

I get a sense of deja vu when he drops his packet, rushing forward to finally embrace his daughters again. The two of them don't just wait for him, oh no, they all but tackle him in return. I smile, going to pick up the packet for him, and I can just make out a few of the hushed words going on in the hug.

"It's okay dad," Sara chokes out.

"It wasn't your fault," El manages to say before she starts to cry.

I go back to the welcoming party, content to wait for them to have their moment. They may have the rest of eternity, but this part is special.

"Daddy, who is that?" Lucy asks, pulling on my pant leg.

"That's your grandpa, sweetie," I tell her, leaning down to pick her up.

"But I thought Grandpa Teddy was my grandpa?" She questions.

"He is, Lucy. You have two sets of grandparents," I explain, still watching the scene unfold. "Grandpa Teddy is my dad, this is your mom's dad."

Lucy nods, and quickly sets about opening her little bag of cheerios, which I have to help her with.

"Why hasn't mom ever talked about him?" Noah inquires, coming up beside us.

"It's a tough subject, Noah, even for your mom," I answer, putting my free arm around his shoulders. "And once you turn sixteen we'll explain it to you. Until then, just try not to push them too far."

"Okay," He murmurs quietly, which is odd for him. Quiet normally means serious.

Alexa comes to join us as well after another few moments, standing on the opposite side of me as Noah. I notice her wringing her hands behind her back, something El used to do a lot at her age.

"You guys don't need to be nervous, he's going to love you," I inform them, though it assuredly falls on deaf ears.

When it does come time to be our turn, I can see the split second question in his eyes before he recognizes me. His tears start to well up all over again, and the words are written all over his face.

"You don't have to feel guilty, Hopper," I tell him, before he even opens his mouth. "I made my choices."

I get deja vu again to what Bob had told me after I'd come through those doors so many years ago now.

"But-"

"We don't do a lot of accusing here in Eternity," I continue, drawing on more of my memories. "We make our peace with what happened, it comes with the territory."

I make him look me in the eyes, and I make him see what I'm talking about.

"You've grown," He comments with a half smile. "I used to have you shaking in your sneakers, now look at us."

"Don't feel too bad, I still can't shoot the broad side of a barn," I respond.

He manages a laugh at that, before focusing on the three smaller people with us.

"And who are the little ones?" He asks, smiling at each of them. Lucy tries to hide behind her bunny, which is weird because she's normally the most outgoing.

"Dad, these are our kids," El says, recomposing herself before coming back over to us. "Alexa is our oldest, then we have Noah, and little Lucy."

It takes Hopper a second to register that, and he looks between the two of us several times, until El holds up her hand with her ring on it.

The his gaze locks on to me.

For some reason, though, I'm not the least bit scared. Nothing could be better.

XxX

 **Karen**

"According to Hopper, she really became the new Flo after Flo retired," I explain. "She had more authority in that station than he did."

"That sounds like your mother," My dad comments, shifting the handmade sign around in his hands. "I wish I could have changed things, so I was less of an ass for our entire marriage."

"You've improved quite a bit in the last few years though," El comments. "Liam and Jessica are always so excited for you to take them to play."

"It's what I wish I did the first time around," He admits.

"I remember you being like this when we were little," I tell him. "You used to give me and Nancy piggy back rides all the time."

"You remember those?" He asks almost disbelievingly. "You were only three when I stopped doing those."

"They were good memories," I reply, turning back toward the door as El giggles at us, as if we're still kids.

This time it's just the three of us. We'd left Hopper in charge of our two five year olds, which usually goes pretty well, except when he gives them chocolate chip eggos way past dinnertime. The house just hadn't felt right without kids running around, after our first three had moved out, so naturally we'd adopted two more.

The first three still visit almost every other day to tell us how they're doing, which they could do with a simple phone call, but it's nice to see them. This time we adopted two of the same age, one boy and one girl.

"Just wait till mom finds out she has five grandchildren she didn't know about," I murmur, chuckling a little in nervous anticipation.

"She's going to love them, even more than we do," El assures me, taking my hand in hers. It's so simple, and yet it works every time.

When the door to the terminal opens again, the small crowd slowly making its way in, I can feel my heart start to race again.

As usual, there's an odd combination of outlandish fashion choices and formal wear. People walk slowly, taking in the terminal and glancing down at the packets they'd been given not long ago.

It's impossible to miss her, even in the little mess of people. The lines in her face had gotten so much deeper, but so had the smile lines. Her hair had turned gray, and originally she'd dyed it away, but after a while she let it be the way nature intended for her.

Her eyes widen a little in surprise when she spots us, mainly the sign we're holding, but then she seems to recognize the man holding it. As she starts walking over she looks at El, and then at me...

She freezes, her packet falling from her slack fingers. I can see the glint of tears starting to form in her eyes even from halfway across the terminal.

I'm not really surprised that she recognized me, she is my mother after all. It doesn't really matter if it's been five minutes or fifty years, she'll know it's me.

It's an incredible feeling to hug my mother again, the only difference now being that I'm a grown man, and I've filled into the all gangly limbs I'd been cursed with as a teenager.

And I'm happy now, unlike anything I'd ever been alive.

"Mike." She says breathlessly, squeezing me as if I'll disappear if she lets go. "Oh, Mike...I'm-"

"Stop," I cut her off before she can say it. "It's good to see you, mom."

She can't hold it back anymore, burying her head against my chest to cry. I hold her gently, just like I held El all the times she cried.

Dad and El come over to join us, and dad picks up the packet mom had dropped.

"Mom, there's someone I'd like you to meet," I tell her after another few minutes, gently nudging her back so she can see all of us. I reach out and find El's hand, a perfected habit at this point. "This is El, my wife."

"El..." She murmurs, looking the woman herself up and down in awe. "Hopper told me about you, but to actually see you..."

"It's nice to finally meet you," El responds with a smile. "And I'm sure all of your grandkids will be excited to meet you too."

My mother looks like she might faint with the intake of information, but that's okay. We have all eternity to explain it to her now.

"It's nice to see you again, Karen," Dad finally says, drawing mom's attention. Mom doesn't even seem to know what to say, and Dad doesn't seem. "I owe you a thousand apologies, and I plan to give you each one of them, so here's the first. I'm sorry, about everything."

"Oh, Ted..." She says, letting go of me to give him a hug as well. "I've wanted to apologize to you for years."

My parents hug each other, not quite as tight as mom had hugged me, or how El and I hug, but definitely glad to see each other again. I put my arm around El, and she leans into me. We share a glance.

Everything will be fine, just like always.

XxX

 **Joyce**

"I still can't believe you two got married," El comments. "That Sara and I have brothers too."

"You're about forty five years late on realizing that, kid," Hopper points out.

"I kind of realized it when we watched the ceremony," El retorts, squeezing my hand with a smirk. "Seeing you wearing a tux was amazing, by the way."

"Oh shut up," He growls at us.

"No, it looked good," I tell him, fighting down the laughter that threatens to bubble out of me. "And I had no idea you could dance like that."

"Says the one who went and married my daughter without my blessing," Hopper shoots back. "Taking all of those moments away from me."

"Oh shush, Benny did just fine," El interjects. "He walked me down the aisle, gave me away, the whole deal."

"I question his judgement though," Hopper responds. "Just look who he gave you away to."

"Dad, we've been over this. Mike is my husband and you have to accept that," El stresses. "And if I hadn't been absolutely certain I wanted to spend all of forever with him, it wouldn't have mattered what Benny said. Mike was _my_ decision."

"Yes sweetie, whatever you say," Hopper drones, rolling his eyes.

El and I look at each other out of the corners of our eyes, both of us trying not to smile. Hopper will never change, but we'll be just fine.

"Here they come," I say when I see the first sign of movement behind the sliding doors. The mix of expressions is always interesting to watch, everything from curiosity to fear, taking their first steps into a whole new world.

I can hear Hopper's breath catch just before I spot her through the little crowd. Mrs. Byers had always seemed to have stress written on her face whenever I saw her, but now she seems relaxed, like some great weight has finally been lifted.

Hopper doesn't wait for her to come to us, starting off across the terminal. It's not hard to spot him coming, and Joyce smiles when she notices him. Their embrace is soft, nothing like you would expect from Hopper's massive figure.

"Do you think we looked like that?" El questions, leaning her head on my shoulder.

"Considering we were only fourteen, it probably looked a lot more awkward," I tell her, putting my arm around her waist. "But it was perfect."

The two of them talk about something, probably how good it is to see each other again, and I can't blame them. Being apart from someone you love is hard, but finding them again is the greatest feeling ever.

When they finally decide to come back to us, Joyce has a big smile, and even Hopper's stone face cracks a bit.

"Oh, you have no idea how nice it is to know you're both okay," Joyce tells us, bring El and I in for a hug at the same time. "I know I'm not supposed to say it, but still, I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," El assures her.

"And it's all in the past now," I add. "Let's leave it there."

"Oh, alright," Joyce says, though she still has a guilty twinge to her tone.

"Did Hopper tell you yet?" El asks, changing the subject with practiced ease.

"Tell me what?" Joyce responds, letting us go and looking at her husband, who also seems confused.

El and I look at each other, both of us trying not to give it away.

"Well, since you and Hopper got married," I start.

"And Hopper all but adopted me," El continues, her excitement threatening to spill over and just say it.

"That means that any kids _we_ have would be..." I say, waiting for her to make the connection. It takes another few seconds for the realization to break through, but then Joyce just beams at us.

"I'm a grandmother all over again!" She exclaims, bringing us in for another hug. "How many?"

El and I both chuckle a little before answering.

"Oh, well, we have three that are adults now," I tell her.

"And two seven year olds," El finishes. "Plus the dogs."

"Well, I need to meet them then," Joyce decides. "Let's go."

With that Joyce lets us go and starts toward the door, a new purpose in her step.

"Well, she's adjusted faster than most people," I comment.

"She's good at that," Hopper informs us, starting after her before she gets lost. "You get used to it."

El and I exchange one last look before following as well. Our little family is coming back together again.

XxX

 **Jonathan**

"Is it always this stressful to stand here?" Joyce asks for the tenth time since we arrived, wringing her hands together.

"The first few times, yeah," I tell her, understanding how she must feel.

"It gets easier the longer you're here," El informs her, putting an arm around her shoulder. It's still weird seeing my wife the same age as my mother-in-law, but I'm sure that will go away with time as well.

"Should I have brought a sign?" She questions. "Some people brought signs."

El and I share a covert smile. We'd have asked the little ones to make a sign, but they're not too great at making things legible yet.

"It'll be fine, Joyce," I assure her, still not used to using her first name. It feels weird on my tongue. "You'd probably have crumpled it up by now anyway. Take a breath and try to relax a little."

"You make that sound so much easier than it is," She says, giving me a look.

"He does that a lot, actually," El mentions, giving me a sidelong glance. "But, somehow, he knows what he's talking about most of the time. There's nothing to be worried about, everything is already taken care of."

Despite our efforts, she doesn't seem appeased, still wringing her hands. When the doors open and the small crowd of people come through, she freezes almost like a deer in the headlights. Her eyes scan over every face that comes through the door, until it finds the one.

At eighty-six years old, Jonathan still looks pretty good. There aren't too many wrinkles on his face, though he does have little creases on the corners of his mouth. His hair is short and gray, but he still has most of it. He's wearing a black suit, with an old camera around his neck. I'd learned after the first few weeks that when people die of natural causes, and then have a funeral, they come wearing whatever clothes they were buried in. There's also a boarding station for them, but I'd bypassed that entirely.

Jonathan recognizes us immediately, and by _us_ I mean his mother, who is somehow younger than him now. His steps are slow as he walks toward us, showing his age, but a big smile breaks out on his face.

"Mom," He greets when she meets him halfway (two-thirds, but does it really matter?). "Wha...what is this place? How are we here?"

"There's a lot to talk about, Jonathan," She says, hugging him tightly. "And there are so many people who want to see you again."

It's like he was waiting for a switch to flip, and now he notices us standing there, a bit closer than before, but still a few yards away. The smile on his face gets a little smaller, a bit more strained, and I can see the grief behind his eyes that he was never fully able to move past.

El squeezes my hand, our cue to finally go say hello. She greets her stepbrother with a hug, which he gingerly returns, as if she'll vanish into smoke if he hugs too hard. I know _that_ feeling all too well.

His mouth opens and closes several times as El and I greet him, but no words come out of it. He just can't seem to figure out what to say.

"It's good to see you, Jonathan," I tell him, giving him a hug of my own.

"Mike," He finally manages. "I...I..."

"Don't worry about, Jonathan, what's done is done," I say, forestalling his next sentence. "If you want to talk, we can do it later, but for now, there's better things for us to do."

"Like meeting all of your nieces and nephews!" El jumps back in. "Mark, Anthony, and Rachel are all a bit young to have heard all our stories, but the rest are all grown up now."

"The...rest?" He questions, his face becoming a mask of confusion.

"Like I said, there's a lot to talk about," Joyce tells him, laying a hand on his arm. "So why don't we go get started?"

It takes another few moments for the words to process in Jonathan's mind, but then he starts to smile again.

"I'd like that," He says, taking his mother's hand.

As we leave the terminal, I can't resist one last bit before we start introducing Jonathan to the wonders of Eternity.

"So, Jonathan," I start nonchalantly. "How's my sister doing?"

XxX

 **Steve**

I take a sip of my coffee while I wait, this time meeting our latest arrival on my own. El, Joyce, and Hopper had offered to come with me, and even my mom had offered, but this one I need to do myself. As much as I'd love to give the standard "we don't hold onto the past" speech, that's not going to work for Steve.

Him and I need to talk, that much I'm certain of. What we'll actually end up talking about is an entirely different story.

After the first time El and I checked in on everyone at the reflecting pool, I'd been thinking how this conversation would go, and every time I think about it, everything changes. We're in a different place, we start right away, we make small talk first, El is there with me, it's just Steve and I; the variations are endless.

When the doors slide open, I recognize Steve immediately. Even at eighty eight years old, his hair is still going strong, though it has turned silver. His suit is much nicer than most, though not a surprise for him. I'm surprised he wasn't buried with his mercedes too. While he's definitely not a teenager anymore, he doesn't show the normal signs of being almost ninety, the mess of wrinkles and slow gait from bad knees. His face isn't smooth by any account, but he's still definitely the Steve Harrington everyone knew and most loved.

He looks around the terminal, and despite not having seen me for sixty-nine years, he recognizes me almost instantly. When he starts toward me, I meet him halfway. We stand across from each other for a few moments, both just looking, sizing each other up after so long.

We'd never been close friends; it's a wonder I was even included on the message list for his arrival, but now here we are. Being face to face now, I'm not even sure what to say to him. Thankfully, he takes the initiative.

"So, you did end up somewhere...new," He says plainly, his face like a block of stone, with smile lines and a few creases, but then he smiles.

I give him a hug, trying not to spill the two cups of coffee I'm holding. Why did I even get them beforehand? We could just go to a cafe here in the city and get coffee when we're ready, but no I brought to-go cups with me.

"It took you a long time to come join us," I mention. "But welcome to Eternity."

"Well, I made you a promise, remember?" He says, accepting the cup that I offer to him. "I'll just assume you heard, what with all the magic you must be able to do in this place."

"I heard," I tell him, cracking a smile and turning toward the door so we can talk somewhere else. "There's a lot for us to talk about, but thank you."

"You're welcome," He responds, taking a sip. "It seemed like it was the least I could do after...everything."

"You did plenty, Steve, trust me," I assure him as we exit the terminal. He looks around in wonder at the skyscrapers around us. "The question is, where to start?"

This is one of the questions I'd mulled over with infinite answers for so many years. What was the real start of the story? Do I tell the parts of it that are about El, or do I let her tell it to him when we get home?

"How about at the beginning?" Steve suggests, as if that wasn't what I was trying to figure out, tearing his eyes away from the buildings. Real estate did end up being his calling, and he made it big. "And don't skip the details. I've waited almost seventy years for this."

"Alright grandpa, just don't expect it to be some epic story," I retort, rolling my eyes at him, though I really just need some more time to make a decision. "And a lot of it you were a part of."

Steve just takes another sip of his coffee, and I question why I even brought him any when he's just going to irritate me with it. I should have just brought some for myself, he must be pretty well rested after being on the ship over here.

Was the beginning when we found El in the woods? Or was it when Hopper called us to the principal's office to ask about Will? We could go back even further and start with El's time in the lab, but that seems like something she should tell for herself when she's ready.

What part of this complex, sad story was the beginning for me? If I'm going to tell it, I have to start at the beginning for me. Still, when was that?

I take a deep breath, and then sigh.

"It all started when we were playing D&D..."

XxX

 **Nancy**

"So the kids didn't want to come today?" Mom asks when we arrive at the terminal, just a few minutes behind schedule because El wanted to stop and look at the dogs running around the park.

"No, grandpa promised to take them to the movies today, and they couldn't be swayed," El answers, holding back a laugh.

Really it had been Joyce that orchestrated it, but only so Hopper would have to watch the kids movie. He's been very stubborn about avoiding kids movies, but there was no chance he could say no to Mark, Anthony, _and_ Rachel. I'm not even sure what the movie's about, but I think it has dragons in it.

It's a shame that they won't be here to greet their aunt, but I'm also a little relieved. Steve and I had a long conversation when he got here, and it hadn't all been friendly. I'm sure it's going to be worse with my sister, considering what she went through because of me.

"Are you okay?" El asks quietly, gently brushing her hand against mine.

"Yeah, just nervous," I tell her, taking her hand long enough to give it a squeeze. "I'm going to need to break the first rule."

"I don't blame you," She says, a wistful smile on her face. "Plus, aren't rules meant to be broken?"

"Just don't let the kids hear you say that," I respond, smiling and giving her a kiss.

"Woah, keep it pg you two, this is a solemn occasion," Steve interjects.

El and I both glare at him, but it doesn't even faze him. Back in the body he had in his prime, his hair is back to its full majesty. Looking at him you'd almost miss the sign in his hands with my sister's name.

"I feel like they'd know best, Steve," Jonathan retorts, looking equally young, though his hair had never been quite as famous. "They _were_ the ones greeting _us_ when we got here."

"Oh, stop it you two," Mom interrupts, standing on the other side of Jonathan with dad. The two of them had put their differences behind them, as is common practice in Eternity, though they hadn't gotten back together.

If I've learned one thing from being in Eternity so long, it's that people are willing to forgive a lot of things when faced with an endless expanse of time. Old problems don't seem so big anymore when a lifetime is just a blip in your new existence. Yes, some things can't, and shouldn't, be forgiven, but we've put that behind us as well, years ago now.

"Here they come," El whispers, jostling me from my thinking.

The door slides open just after her words, the small crowd of people shuffling into the terminal, all of them both curious and apprehensive at this new world they've been thrust into. In the middle of the crowd, with her silver hair falling loosely around her shoulders, is Nancy. I feel something catch in my throat when I see her, and I'm glad that she doesn't notice me right away because I'd probably start to cry if I needed to even say hello just yet.

El squeezes my hand while Jonathan and Steve start toward Nancy. My parents follow just behind them, but I hesitate taking the first step.

"It's been seventy-two years, Mike," El whispers. "She's waited that long to see you again, to hear you speak, and move, and _be there_...don't make her wait too much longer."

I hate that she always knows what to say to me.

Everyone is excitedly welcoming Nancy to Eternity when we reach them. We wait at the back of the group for them to reunite; it's only fair since they were around longer. Nancy is a bit more reserved when she greets our dad, but she doesn't seem as hostile toward him as she did after...you know.

When she finally seems to notice El and I standing there, confusion spreads across her wrinkled face, and then she freezes. She looks like she's seen a ghost, which I guess technically, she has.

"M...Mike?" She murmurs, as if saying it too loud would turn everything around her into a mirage.

"Nancy..." I try to start, but the words catch in my throat again.

Steve wisely takes a step to the side, because Nancy and I rush to hug each other. She hugs me so tightly that I'm afraid she'll dislocate something. We'll have to inform her about appearing different ages once we leave.

"I'm so sorry, Mike," She whispers, her voice quivering with emotion.

"No, _I'm_ sorry," I counter, trying not to choke again. "You did _everything_ you knew how to, it wasn't your fault."

"But-"

"No," I insist, firmer this time. I make my voice stay steady when I speak. "It wasn't your fault Nancy." My voice threatens to break again. "I only lasted that long because of you."

The last part is barely loud enough for her to hear. I'd been so afraid to tell her that out loud for so long, it feels like I'm standing on hollow glass legs now.

Nancy starts to cry in earnest, hugging me a little tighter than before, our friends and family surrounding us for support. It feels good to finally be able to say it, though, like I've been carrying a weight for seventy-two years that I could finally let go of. It's taken a blissfully long time, but I can finally make sure she knows.

XxX

 **Lucas**

Even after doing this so many other times, it's still a little surreal to come to the terminal after getting an arrival message. It's especially surreal when the person you got the message about is the same age as you.

"He was one of your best friends, of course it's going to feel weird," El says, reading my mind despite that not being one of her powers.

"I just never considered that I'd be meeting them here," I tell her. "It was always something that was going to happen in the future, so I never needed to think about it in the present."

"I'm sure he'll be happy to see you," She replies confidently. "There's a lot to catch up on, after all."

"What's a lot to catch up on?" A new voice asks.

We turn around, smiles on our faces, to greet Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair. We'd given them a call to let them know we'd be coming, and they'd said to meet at the terminal. We made better time getting here, ease of practice and all.

"Life stories," I answer, which makes them both laugh.

"Well, so long as he has time to give mom and dad a hug hello after so long," Mr. Sinclair responds with a chuckle. "I'm sure the two of you have more to talk about than we do."

"We do have all eternity to hear about the last twenty or thirty years," Mrs. Sinclair comments. "Our boy made it to eighty-eight."

"He had good genes," Mr. Sinclair declares, his laughter just becoming infectious.

"And he had a nice girl to keep his head on his shoulders," Mrs. Sinclair adds. "Lord knows what trouble he'd have gotten into otherwise, with that company of his."

We'd probably have gone on for a while longer, but we're interrupted by some nervous chatter going around the room. Movement is spotted on the other side of the glass doors, and then they slide open, the small crowd coming in.

Lucas had aged well, not too many wrinkles, and still with most of his hair, though it had grayed. His suit is incredibly nice, the sign that he'd done really well for himself, or that he just had a really good tailor.

We hadn't brought a sign, but Lucas easily recognizes his parents from across the room, and how they're now younger than him. We follow a few steps behind so they can greet their son, and as always, it's a very touching scene to watch.

"Well, if you guys are here, that would mean that _you two_ ," Lucas says, moving his attention to us. "Must be Mike and Eleven."

"I see you're still just as observant in your old age," I comment, but I can't help the grin that breaks out on my face.

"I ran one of the biggest tech firms in the country for fifty years, I have to be observant," Lucas retorts, pulling me into a hug. "Doubly observant because I had to keep an eye on Dustin the whole time."

"I'm surprised he didn't go into making pudding," I reply, drinking in my old friend's presence after so long.

"He was considering it, but I convinced him otherwise," Lucas explains as we pull back from each other. "And El, don't think you get away without a hug. I might be old, but I'm not senile."

El laughs at his bad joke as they hug. Seeing them now, you'd never believe that Lucas had some kind of vendetta against her when we were younger.

"Since you shared so much about your company, it's only fair that we share something with you," El says.

Lucas raises an eyebrow, at least until El and I hold up the rings on our fingers.

His jaw drops.

XxX

 **Dustin**

"I hope they had plenty of snacks on Dusty's boat," Mrs. Henderson fusses, looking through her bag for the plastic spoon she brought, pushing aside more than one cup of pudding for her son.

"I don't think that food is going to be an issue, Mrs. Henderson," I assure her, trying not to laugh. "The boats never run out of food."

"But what if there's a really long line?" She questions. "Or if he gets lost trying to find the exit terminal?"

"He'll be fine," El joins in. "There's plenty of people there to guide him, and he only needs to make it here before we can show him where to go."

Mrs. Henderson opens her mouth to raise another possible reason why Dustin might need the emergency pudding, but it gets cut off by the sound of the doors to the terminal sliding open.

We wait patiently and expectantly for Dustin to walk through the doors, older and grayer than we remember, but still unmistakably Dustin. He's not at the front of the crowd, or in the middle of the crowd, and by the time the back of the crowd makes it in we all come to a realization.

Dustin managed to get lost.

That thought doesn't last very long either, as the doors slide open once again to reveal a man who is impossible to mistake as anyone but Dustin Henderson. He even has his old hat on his head, though it doesn't go particularly well with the suit. I'm sure he asked to be buried in it.

He was just late.

Dustin has a lot more spring in his step than would be expected for an eighty-nine year old man, but he practically bounces his way over to us.

"Hi mom, I finally made it," He says, giving his mother a great big hug.

I can't even say that I'm surprised by this turn of events. This is probably just another one of his curiosity voyages, and we happen to be along for the ride.

Mrs. Henderson almost starts to cry, the emergency pudding forgotten as she embraces her son for the first time in years. Dustin has his signature smile on his face, and just seems to exude charisma. El and I can't help but smile at each other.

"And that means that you guys must be...Mike and...Eleven?" He guesses, turning to us once his mother relents and lets go.

He phrases it as a question, but he already knows. We simultaneously roll our eyes at him and pull him into a group hug. He laughs, which makes us laugh.

"It's good to see you guys again," He says, holding each of us at arm's length to look us over. "Oh, rings, you guys got married?"

Between him and Lucas, it's a wonder I didn't try to kill either of them with the nail bat, they're both infuriating. At least Lucas was surprised when he found out, if only because he thought I'd never have the balls to ask.

"Mike, there's something I need to say," Dustin continues, his grin turning into a much more serious face, though the permanent smile lines on his face don't particularly help. "I should have said it all those years ago, but I couldn't, and that was one of my biggest regrets. Thank you, for that day in the quarry."

"What day in the quarry?" Mrs. Henderson asks apprehensively. It's going to be a time trying to explain that one to her.

"You don't have to thank me," I tell him, almost reflexively. It was my choice, he didn't even ask me to do it. "I'd do it again if I had to."

"Yes, I know, you're an idiot," He retorts, and then pulls me into another hug. "But seriously, thank you. You have no idea how much that meant to me."

"I can imagine," I counter, thinking back to what I'd seen in the reflecting pool.

We both stay silent for a few moments, the unspoken understanding passing between us.

"Let's walk and talk, I'm sure there's more to see than this airport terminal," Dustin continues, letting go of me and starting toward the door. "And let me tell about the scholarships I set up in your name. My pride and joy!"

He starts to ramble on about his part in the company that he and Lucas had started. At first it's just the big picture, but Dustin skips around to the good parts. They'd brought Will on as a silent partner near the beginning to help them with their marketing and publicity, but he hadn't been too involved later on.

When he gets to the part about the scholarships, I start to tear up again. It had been Dustin's idea, but Lucas and Will had been overjoyed by the thought. There were four altogether; one for students going into engineering, one for students going into computer science, one for students going into a mental health profession, and one for those going into biology, chemistry, or physics.

All the things that I'd loved or needed. The guys knew I wanted to be an engineer someday, I just never figured out what kind. They knew I loved computers, it's the reason they made me AV club president. Our science fair projects were always my favorite things to do, and we tried to pick a different theme each year.

And I'd really needed that therapy. No matter how much I'd hated it when I went, it actually helped a lot. Maybe if I'd gone to therapy the first time, things might have turned out differently...

No, this isn't the time or place. Right now I need to listen to Dustin talk about how he made pudding a constant staple in the corporate cafeteria. I've had a good life here, with El, and I wouldn't give that up.

Now it's time to catch up, and to let Dustin meet all of his new nieces and nephews.

XxX

 **Max**

"Dude, you're shaking," I comment to Lucas, who can't seem to stand still with the glittery sign in his hands. The kids had put extra effort into it, and a small puff of glitter falls from it every time Lucas moves, so it's essentially raining glitter around his feet.

"She's my wife, Mike," He snaps back.

"Then you should relax," El tells him. "Being all high strung while you're here isn't going to be a good welcome to Eternity."

"I'm trying," Lucas retorts, putting no visible effort in at all.

"Everything will be fine, Lucas," Ms. Mayfield says from his other side. "You should have heard the way she talked about you when she was getting ready for the wedding, she'll be so much more than happy to see you."

Lucas' next attempt to reject our help is lost at the sound of the doors sliding open. His eyes dart around, trying to find her through the crowd before anyone else can. He finally locks onto one person, a faint reddish tinge to her silver hair, walking slowly at the back of the group.

He doesn't wait to see if we've found her, he just takes off across the terminal, a cloud of glitter falling in his wake. She notices him when he's halfway over, a grin breaking out on her face, and once they're close enough to hug, Lucas drops the glittery sign altogether.

"You think he forgot about us?" I inquire, trying not laugh. Really, the scene is very touching, it's just Lucas that makes me crack up.

"Dustin's gonna be mad that he isn't here," El comments.

"Yeah, well, he shouldn't have promised to take the kids to the zoo today," I respond, starting over to our friends. "He knows that there's no getting out of doing something with them once he says 'promise'."

"We taught them so well," El murmurs with a smile, taking my hand as we walk.

Lucas and Max have had their tearful reunion by the time we get to them, and by the look on Max's face, he told her who else came to greet her.

"Welcome to Eternity, sweetheart," Her mother says, giving Max a gentle hug.

El steps forward next, before I can even open my mouth to speak.

"This didn't go so well the first time, so why don't we try again?" She says. "I'm El, it's nice to finally meet you. I've heard lots of great things."

El extends her hand, and for a few moments Max just stares at it. I start to worry that Max somehow still has some kind of animosity toward El.

That thought disappears when Max shakes the offered hand, like a massive knot unraveling in my stomach. The both of them smile, and then hug. Once Max knows how to be any age she wants, the two of them are going to be a force to be reckoned with.

"And Mike..." She starts, turning to me once she lets go of my wife. "There's so much I need to say, so many things I need to thank you for."

"Don't worry about it too much," I tell her, extending a hand as well. "We have all eternity, after all...Zoomer."

Max takes a second to process that, and then skips the handshake entirely, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Thank you, for everything," She murmurs, her voice wavering a little with emotion. "For everything you did for me back then...I don't know what I would have done without you."

"You'd have been fine, in your own time," I respond, trying to bring out whatever sage-like knowledge I've gathered over the years. "I just gave you a push."

"Yeah..." She whispers. "Sorry about the supercom, I know how much it meant to you before...you know."

"Before I died?" I reply, feeling her tense up a little. "I'm not mad, I was never mad. The supercom was just plastic and metal, but letting you know I didn't hate you, that's what it was _supposed_ to be."

She nods against my shoulder, probably trying not to start crying again.

"Hey, I think you've hugged my wife for long enough," Lucas says, tapping me on the shoulder. I take the cue from his grin, stepping back so he can be the one to comfort his wife.

El and I join hands once again, glad to have another of our friends back with us.

XxX

 **Will**

Of all the reunions that I knew were coming, I've been most nervous about this one. Nancy had been a close second, but I'd known how to apologize to her. I'd known how I hurt her, and I could understand it. I can't say the same about Will.

I always knew Will was different, but the good kind of different. That's why we'd been best friend since kindergarten; that's why I've spent so much time at the reflecting pool watching over him. I'd just been so wrong thinking that Will would be able to keep going as easily as everyone else, and then I'd seen what Will wrote about me, about _us_.

He trusted me so implicitly, and I betrayed him. I all but destroyed him. That's not something you can just apologize for.

"He loved you so much," Joyce says, interrupting my thoughts. "No matter what, no matter how bad things were for him, you made him happy. He kept that picture from the science fair with him all the time."

That just drives the knife deeper into my chest.

"So I know what you must be thinking," She continues. "That you can't face him now, after what happened, but you can. There's nothing he ever wanted more than to see you again, so don't keep that from him."

"Yeah, or we might get mad," Jonathan adds, which makes El and Hopper laugh, until Joyce glares at them.

"Bet you two weeks of babysitting that Will notices Mike first," Hopper whispers to his daughter. I'm sure I wasn't meant to hear that, but I sigh nonetheless.

"Bet you four that he just hugs Mike as soon as they see each other without acknowledging us," El counters, equally poor at whispering.

"You're on," He agrees quietly.

My own wife is taking bets about me and my closest friend, just perfect.

I almost jump out of my skin when the doors slide open, getting another giggle out of everyone but Joyce. The small crowd starts to shuffle in, almost entirely elderly people this time, which I guess is a good thing.

Something just draws me to one of them, a slightly shorter than average man with a head of gray and white hair. He has glasses at the end of his nose, and a slight stoop from hunching over art projects all the time.

Will and I lock eyes from across the room, before any of the others manage to find him in the crowd. We both start walking toward each other at the same time.

When we hug, no words pass between us, just a feeling. For too long, we've both been missing something important, a piece of ourselves, but now we have it back.

Now we're whole.

The fact that El just won the bet that she and Hopper had made never even crosses my mind as Will and I reunite, though it will when El and I want to finally go out together in the future. Four weeks of babysitting.

Now though, my friend is back. My best friend, no, more than that. We'd always been more than just friends, but brothers doesn't quite work here. Then it clicks, from Will's own words...

Soulmates

XxX

 **Holly**

"You should have seen her wearing your hoodie around the house," Nancy tells me. "It was long enough to be a dress, and her arms only went halfway down the sleeves. Whenever she had to hold something it was adorable."

"I'm glad she found some use for it," I respond wistfully. "I just hope she remembers who I am. I've been gone almost her entire life."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that," Mom assures me. "She never forgot her big brother, who taught her to ride a bike, and how to do math, and took her to the carnival, and got her the monkey hat-"

"Who brought her home from school everyday on his bike," Nancy picks up. "Or who told the best bedtime stories in the world."

"You were her hero," Mom continues. "I remember when she was supposed to write about someone she looked up to in first grade, and she picked you. She kept that assignment hanging on her wall until the day she moved out."

"She took it with her," Nancy adds, as if I couldn't make the connection there. I glance over at El, but just seems bemused.

"Look at it this way, Mike," Dad says. "If she's going to be unhappy to see anyone, it's going to be me. Remember when she took those classes on Russian just so she could annoy me with it?"

"How could we forget?" Nancy mutters. "All she spoke for two months was Russian, we couldn't understand a single thing she said."

"And, as it turns out, she's not the first in the family to speak Russian," I mention, remembering the receiving line after the wedding.

"Don't remind me," Dad complains to himself.

It's nice to have our family together without all the same stress and tension we had before. Once we have our final member, we can really start to be a family again; maybe not a perfect one, not after everything, but still a family.

When the door opens, all of our attention goes over there. El squeezes my hand, just as nervous as I am for this reunion, or in her case, first meeting.

Mom grips the sign in her hands a little tighter. Our three new bundles of joy had so much fun putting it together, we never had the heart to correct their spelling of Holly. There are two L's in it, not one, but Amber, Katherine, and Henry don't need to know that for a few more years.

Luckily for us, she can fill in the context clues. It might also help that she's seen three of the five people waiting for her look the ages they appear now. Albeit, if I hadn't been keeping an eye on her all this time at the reflecting pool, I wouldn't be able to recognize her either.

She's much taller now, her hair is long and white, and she has the story of a full life on her body. However, the twinkle in her eyes is still the same as the last time we were face to face, there's no mistaking it.

"Mom, Nancy, dad..." She murmurs, not believing the sight before her eyes. When she gets to me and El, I can see the same mix of confusion and curiosity that she had every time I showed her something from my science textbook. "Mike...?"

She says it as if she's afraid to know the answer.

"It's good to see you, Holly," I respond, unable to stop the smile that creeps onto my face. She did remember me.

For her age, she's surprisingly spry, almost flooring me with the force of her embrace. I can see the glint of tears on her cheeks, but I'm sure I have a matching set on my own.

"I knew I'd see you again," She says, her voice half muffled by my shirt. "I knew."

"And there's someone else you should meet," I tell her after a few wonderful moments. Holly lifts her head, and then reluctantly lets go. I gesture to El, who smiles. "This is El, my wife."

Holly considers her for a second, looking her up and down, and then laughs.

"I'm just kidding," She chuckles. "Welcome to the family."

She doesn't hesitate in giving El a hug of her own, to which El seems quite taken aback. Most new people she's met haven't gone straight to the hugging stage.

"Well, for better or worse, we're all back together again," Nancy observes once Holly lets go of El. "The Wheeler family, new members and all."

"Oh, not yet," I correct. "You're forgetting Jonathan, which means we're forgetting Will and Joyce."

"Plus all eleven of our children," El adds, stepping closer and taking my hand. "And Lucas, Max, and Dustin."

"And Benny, Barb, and Bob," I continue with a smile. "And every single one of our ancestors, and our friends' ancestors."

"Family isn't just blood," El sums up. "Family is whoever cares about you."

I don't see one single bit of disagreement from my immediate family. If anything, the idea is exciting.

"We're gonna need a bigger table," Mom comments, laughter erupting around our circle. This is what family is supposed to be like.

And now, that's what our family really is.

* * *

Thus ends Somewhere New...

I really hope you enjoyed everyone reuniting in Eternity, and the little interactions between them. Some of it may have been a bit rushed to meet my deadline, but I don't think anything turned out truly awful (I didn't send this to my beta reader, so it hasn't been as fully proofread as normal). If you have any thoughts on what everyone gets up to in Eternity that you want to share, drop in the the reviews or PM me and I'll take a look. I hope all of you have enjoyed reading Somewhere New as much as I enjoyed planning and writing it, and if you like my writing style, I hope that you'll give my other stories a chance.

As for the sudden deadline, today (January 25th, 2019) is one year and eleven days since I first posted Somewhere New (January 14th, 2018).

Until we meet again!


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